#i want a house with a guest room to house my friends who want to come stay

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[totalswag]

baby girls first birthday — RAFE CAMERON

authors note since my last dad!rafe fic did so well i thought why not make another one. you can find it fourth of july

join my taglist if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary celebrating layla's first birthday surrounded with friends and family.

warning(s) none just a whole lotta cuteness.

Today, one year ago, you brought your first daughter Layla into the world. Amazing how quickly a year can pass. It seems like you just gave birth and cradling her in your arms.

Can't count on your fingers how many times you cried the past two days over Layla turning one. No one can blame you for feeling these emotions. She's your first born.

“Can you believe she’s one?” Rafe says while setting up the last string of balloons over the arch wall that leads into the kitchen.

You shake your head, “no I don’t” feeling your words crack with emotion as you prepare breakfast— this was gonna be a special morning breakfast.

As the scent of freshly cooked pancakes permeated the air, you gently plated them, adding a sprinkle of syrup and a small dollop of whipped cream—just enough to taste. You cut the pancakes into tiny, baby-sized pieces, just right for Layla's delicate hands. A few blueberries on the side rounded out the meal, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy as you placed the plate in her high chair.

Rafe and you walked upstairs together to see if Layla was up. The sounds of her little gibberish could be heard down the hall. Layla was looking around her room sitting up— insane smile forms on her when she sees you two get closer. She lifts her arms up to get out.

"Happy first birthday, baby girl," you both exclaim.

She giggles with glee as Rafe scoops her up and places her on his hip before giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She stares at him in complete aww for a moment.

Layla turns to face you, her smile widening, her body slanting in your direction as if she wanted you to give her a quick hug. "My precious girl is one?" You hold her close to you for a couple seconds.

When you walk at the end of the stairs, Layla's eyes gleam with curiosity seeing the lavender colors. She saw the decorations of butterflies hanging from the ceiling, all different colors. She squealed with excitement and opened her eyes wide, grabbing for the closest one.

Rafe set her in her highchair while you went around the kitchen counter with your phone for pictures. Layla exclaimed when she saw her breakfast waiting to be devoured. You snap a few photos while she eats breakfast, then Rafe and you get your plates.

The house is ready for friends and family to arrive. The party doesn't start until twelve thirty, giving everyone plenty of time to prepare.

In case guests wanted to take pictures, there was a picture curtain with the words "Happy Birthday Layla" above.

Friends and family began to arrive, each one bringing gifts for Layla. You greeted them at the door, hugging each person as they stepped inside. Their faces lighting up seeing Layla in her birthday outfit.

"Oh Layla you look so cute in your dress!" Your mom gasped in excitement seeing Layla in Rafe's arms waving at those who came in.

"Can you say thank you grandma?' You grin up at Layla who babbles.

Layla responds by babbling and hiding her face in Rafe's chest.

Layla wore a soft lavender tulle skirt with a bodice decorated with tiny pink butterflies. Her golden curls were gathered into two small pigtails, secured with matching butterfly clips. She looked like the cutest princess.

Half an hour into the party, pictures were taken, conversations, kids running around, etc. The Cameron household was busy to say the least.

You showed everyone where the food and beverages would be once they were ready to eat— fruits, desserts, sandwiches, barbecue, cupcakes, drinks, and more. 

Sarah was leaning against the counter with a plate in her hand, nodding her head to the song playing from the tv. You grab a cupcake before joining her.

"This party is so cute, it screams Layla" Sarah states, regarding the decorations in the house. "The flowers are my favorite,"

"Aw, thank you, Sarah, and initially, when I was looking for decorations and saw the flowers, I knew I needed to get them!"

"On a real note and I'm sure you'll agree but Layla already being one is insane because it feels like she was just born" Sarah frowns, facial expression showing she's feeling a lot of emotions.

"I couldn't agree more— I cried last night before bed, and Rafe comforted me the whole night," you respond quietly.

It was time to start singing happy birthday as time went on. You sat Layla down in front of everyone in her high chair. She looked around waving with both hands with a smile. Rafe came around the corner with a small cake in his hand— Layla's eyes went wide.

"On three, we sing Miss Layla, happy birthday," you say enthusiastically, raising your right palm in the air.

As you both bent in to help Layla in blowing out the flame, Rafe stood next to you, his arm around your waist. Layla clapped her hands with joy as friends and family erupted in cheers and her face broke into the largest smile you've ever seen.

Opening presents was last to go. Layla's tiny hands grasp on each gift she received— curious whatever was in the bag or wrapped in paper. She got toys, clothes, and a few small things.

As the day drew to a close, friends and family began to leave with their children. Layla fell asleep in Rafe's arms in the backyard, sitting around the bonfire with your father, Ward, and friends.

Your mom, Rose, and you were sitting on the front porch swing having a simple conversation about motherhood. They each told you what motherhood taught them and the emotions you feel when it's your first borns birthday.

The smell of the fresh planted flowers, summer breeze hitting your skin, and the sun getting ready to set beautifully.

"I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a mother," you admitted after a time, your voice subdued. "There is so much joy, but also an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I just want to do the right thing for her, you know?

"You're doing an amazing job," Rose encouraged you, placing her hand lightly on your arm. "Motherhood has many obstacles, yet it is apparent how much you adore her. That's what counts the most."

Your mom nodded in agreement. "There isn't a perfect way to accomplish it, no manual or roadmap. You just have to believe in yourself and know that you are enough. "Layla is fortunate to have you."

You felt tears form at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. This conversation, on this particular day, exceeded your expectations. As you sat there, surrounded by women who had helped you through life and into motherhood, you felt overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Thank you for those kind words. I definitely needed to hear that, literally. Time just went by so fast in a blink of an eye" you sniffle while your mom and Rose rub your back.

It was officially the end of the night. The three of you were in your pajamas, ready for bed. The house had decorations up that will be up for another day or two. You held Layla in your arms—her head on your shoulder falling asleep.

You brought Layla upstairs, placing her in her crib and bringing the cover up to her chin. For a time, you simply stood there, watching her sleep, overcome with love for this tiny human who had altered your life in the most beautiful way.

Rafe threw his arm around you as you both stood there, and you knew that no matter how quickly time passed or how many birthdays came and went, the love you felt tonight would see you through it all. And when you turned off the light and closed the door, you couldn't help but grin, knowing that this was only the start of many more wonderful memories.

"Happy birthday, Layla."

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[backfliips]

one day im gonna live in my own house with my own yard and my own decorations and my own furniture and my own kitchen and surround myself with only the people i want to be with and i’ll be able to sit on my porch and watch the sunrise and the sunset and the seasons come and go and things will be better

[babyboybuckley]

Ok I would like to say something but it's a bit heavy so I'm gonna say it in the tags

[stellardeer]

TL;DR - How would you kick someone out of your house without involving police? and Should you?

My no-note blog is probably not the best place to ask this question, but maybe someone will come along and answer, who knows.

So in the ideal circumstance that we abolish the police, I've been wondering about a specific scenario. Say there is a person in your home, for whatever reason, who has no legal right to be there, and you do not want them there (again, for whatever reason) but they refuse to leave and you want to forcibly remove them from your home.

Most people nowadays would threaten to call the cops on them, and usually that alone is enough to get people to leave. I've never actually had this problem myself, but I've known numerous people who've talked about these kinds of situations (and coincidentally they were all middle class, if that tells you anything...) I, personally, would think twice (or a million times) about calling the cops on someone, especially if the person in question is particularly vulnerable to police brutality. So, even if the police aren't abolished, I still want to know the proper alternative to handle this kind of situation.

I'm a pretty weak, easily overpowered person, so my first instinct would be to like.. call someone I know or go get a strong neighbor or something to help me get this person off of my property.

I know that the specifics of the situation also play a key role here, too, on how to handle it. Like, if the person is reasonable, I would hope that just telling them to leave would get them to go - easy enough. But if they refuse to move.. what do I even do? If it's someone that I know very well, I might think to take a break and just walk away from them and hope we can sort things out once we've calmed down. If it's someone that I don't know very well, though, (not even necessarily an intruder, but just say someone who is overstaying their welcome) and especially if tensions are not even high, I wouldn't really know what to do. Some states even have squatters rights, so like.. sometimes you literally CAN'T do anything about this person being in your home, and in some cases they can even get you kicked out. I think it's kind of obvious that if the person clearly has violent intentions towards me, then I have a right to defend myself, but again, I am not going to be able to do that by myself, and I don't know what the legalities are around asking for help from another citizen, i.e. not a cop, if someone means to do you harm?

And what if you do ask for help and your helper ends up injuring the person in the process of trying to get them out?? I'd imagine it's still better than calling a cop, and risking getting a life-ruining criminal record, or worse, shot and killed. But I'd also imagine there could be grounds for them to sue if they get injured by the helper since the helper is not a professional of any kind and not protected in anyway. Only some states have protections against self defense anyway, and I don't know if it even counts if you invited the person into your home willingly and they weren't being violent to begin with. Like.. if they person is just stubbornly standing there and then your burly neighbor puts hands on them first, I don't think that even counts as self defense for the homeowner? At that point if the person fights back then they have a case for self-defense.

And I don't know what the leftist attitude is towards personal property like that anyway, like should we even have a right to our own home? I don't know the leftist view on that, I get the idea that individualism is not the move, but like.. do we still have our own personal space? Space that we are allowed to bar others from entering? Even if that space extends to the entirety of a 2-bedroom home? I'm asking sincerely, because I really haven't read enough socialist theory, so I don't know what the opinions are on home ownership in general. Like in an ideal society, would we supposedly just allow the person to stay for as long as they like, as long as they aren't hurting anything? That's another part of it, like what if they aren't doing any harm but I still don't want them there? Am I wrong for wanting them to leave, even if I don't know them? Supposing even if they are an intruder, if they haven't stolen anything or hurt me or my animals, but they just... won't leave, should I even be mad about that?

But again, forget an ideal society, let's take it back to reality, assuming that I live in the US and the laws are exactly the same as they are in this moment, police are not abolished, but I am choosing to not involve the police in this matter... what is the right thing to do???? Should I just resolve myself to accept that this person lives with me now?? I don't even live in a state with squatters rights, so I don't legally have to, but.. should I? (more thoughts and anecdotes if the tags if you feel like reading)

[0o-junebug-o0]

First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of this time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and whisper something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand to his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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[star-sim]

"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha maknaes

☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen maknae line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, very dumb, jelly boys ☆ warning(s)? no! ☆ ygs seemed to like the hyung version so here's the maknae version!! reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hyung ver.

sunoo ☆

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

this one is gonna be a lil different

paranormal investigator sunoo

he's like buzzfeed unsolved

and for one of his seasons, he goes and investigates haunted places and reviews their histories yk?

for the season finale

sunoo visits the bellaire house, which is notorious for being super haunted and ghost-infested

i like to think that sunoo is honestly skeptical abt ghosts

like he definitely has tried to talk to them, but hasn't discovered anything conclusive to definitively prove the existence of ghosts

anyways because it's the season finale

sunoo has a special guest...

you! his gf!

i think he'd be low key about your relationship, but his viewers know who you are

the video starts off normal

sunoo gives a rundown of the history of the bellaire house, like when it was built, the people that lived in it, the strange occurences in there, etc

the bickering between you and sunoo as you go over the bellaire house is very cute and sweet

it definitely makes it into those "sunoo and [name] being a comedic duo" compilations aw

anyways now its time to investigate the bellaire house head on 😈

sunoo pulls out all his cool ghost-catching gadgets

he tries everything

like the thermal camera, EMF meter, even the goddamn magnetic field detector

sunoos getting annoyed bc why are none of the ghosts talking to him :(

on the other hand

you're clinging onto him, hiding behind ur bf scared shitless

i mean like.... why would you not the bellaire house is known for having DEMONS 😭😭

sunoo huffs and turns to the camera, "welp it looks like there's no ghosts here"

one of the people in his camera crew suggest having you ask instead of him

even though youre scared you do it for ur bf

you're like "hi ghosts..... if you're here with us... please flicker the lights"

.

.

.

THE LIGHTS BEGIN TO FLICKER AAAAAAAA

AND SUNOOS HYPED OUT OF HIS MIND

"BABE BABE BABE ASK THEM THEIR NAME"

so youre like "ghosts... whats your name"

and NO JOKE

A WIND BLOWS PAST THE ROOM

AND EVERYONE IN THE ROOM SWEARS THEY HEAR SOMEONE WHISPER FAINTLY

"robert"

so that's how you and sunoo meet robert the ghost

BUT THAT'S NOT THE END

BECAUSE SUNOO HAS THE BRILLIANT IDEA OF PULLING OUT HIS OUIJA BOARD

tbh you both look dumb as hell

sitting on the crusty bellaire house floor

hunched over a ouija board

sunoo is now asking questions

but the ouija board doesn't even move

but when you ask

"robert, how are you today? yes for good, and no for bad"

THE GODDAMN PLANCHETTE MOVES TO YES AKA GOOD 😭

you and sunoo then introduce yourselves

again, when sunoo introduces himself nothing happens

but when you introduce yourself

the candle that's lit beside you goes out

someone in sunoo's camera crew jokes that they think that robert the ghost likes you

so sunoo jokingly asks "robert are you flirting with my girlfriend?"

AND THE OUIJA BOARD SAYS YES 😭😭😭

and when you kiss sunoo the doors in the house start slamming and shit like SOMEONES MAD

sunoo is lowk offended

and then he starts to beef with robert the ghost

except robert the ghost never respond to anything that sunoo says

bro leaves sunoo on heard

sunoos like "HEY ROBERT I DON'T CARE IF YOURE A DEMON YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK UP!!"

later when ygs review the emf recorder it picks up robert the ghost whispering "i don't care 🙄"

sassy ass ghost

on the other hand

robert responds to EVERYTHING you say

atp you're not scared anymore

"hai robert i'm [name], knock over that doll over there if you want to be my friend"

and the doll knocks over 😭

"robert knock on the window if you think i'm cute :3"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

the camera crew is just laughing their asses off

at some point

the ouija board starts moving on its own

everyones like WOAHHH IT'S ACTUALLY MOVING!!! QUICK GET A PIECE OF PAPER SO WE CAN RECORD WHAT ITS SAYING!!!

sunoo is taking such dilligent notes

it starts with i, then s, then it spells out your name, and then s, i, n, g, l, e

" ' IS [NAME] SINGLE' ???"

is what the ouija board says

yes a goddamn ghost just asked that

SUNOO IS NOT HAVING IT

while you and the camera crew are cracking up

sunoo starts telling off robert

"listen bro just because you died in the bellaire house doesn't mean that you can try to take my gf 😐"

robert the ghost is being sassy too

so sunoo literally just snaps the ouija board in half

"haha you can't talk anymore robert .😐."

yk how in buzzfeed unsolved they take turns staying in the haunted place alone with all the lights off

sunoo kicks everyone out so that he can have a "man to man" talk with robert

robert isn't a physical person but everyone swears they hear crying

.... and it sure isn't coming from sunoo 😇

i think this would go really viral

"[name] is so beautiful that even dead people want her"

"robert the ghost is so me"

"even ghosts aren't immune to beautiful women"

"robert saw a hot woman and took his chance"

this would become an inside joke within sunoo's fandom fs

sunoo isn't having it though

he definitely still tweets about it

"i remember when some loser ghost tried to take my girlfriend"

"robert fuck you i'm glad you died"

"see you hell robert"

i def think robert is scared of sunoo now

LMAO

jungwon ☆

jungwon is documentary youtuber

he likes to make short documentaries about topics that he likes

kinda like wendigoon or fern or real horror

i feel like he'd have a super high quality mic that's super crisp

i think he'd like to make iceberg videos, or videos about obscure missing people stories

anyways

jungwon has a whiteboard that he uses to explain things

esp like timelines

but in one of his videos he doesn't use the whiteboard so it's in the background

so you write a little message on it

its just a very simple

"[name] was here :3 !!"

i feel like only a few people notice it

but as more and more videos pass

and jungwon doesn't use the whiteboard

your little messages get bigger and bigger

until one day the entire board is filled up with just "[NAME] WAS HERE!!!"

sorry i think a lot of jungwon's viewerbase would be redditors, just given what his content is like

r/jungwon LMAAOAOAO

on there someone brings it up

theyre like "who is [name]"

some ppl suggest that it's probably a friend or his gf

it's pretty chill tbh, his viewerbase isn't really too concerned

until one day

jungwon does one of those investigating 411 missing persons cases

except ygs live near one of the places where someone went missing

so he's physically walking along the path where someone went missing as he tells the story

poor baby is lowk kinda scared tho so he takes you along with him

youre mostly behind the camera but you do talk

at the beginning of the video he's like

"hi guys i'm joined by my girlfriend today"

you pop into frame to say hi

anyways like i said you do talk during this video

like as jungwon tells the story you're reacting behind the camera

"it's crazy that a 4 year old traversed 30 miles up a mountain in a matter of 30 hours..."

and behind the camera you're like "omg no way that's wild 😱😱😱"

youre like genuinely invested

you're also cracking a lot of jokes w him too

its really sweet bc most of his videos jungwon is alone, but since youre in this w him, he's smiling so much ;(

and like everytime he makes a joke you can see him looking off-camera to look at your reaction

and when you laugh everyone can literally see how proud he is

this video so SUPER well received

his comment section is so sweet

"i've never seen jungwon smile so much, he's so in love with [name] :("

"the way you can tell jungwon is proud when [name] laughs at his jokes"

but i think the most common type of comment are those type stamp ones

"at 1:23 [name]'s laugh is so cute!"

"0:58 when the camera panned over to [name] my jaw dropped... she's gorgeous!"

"5:29 [NAME] IS SO FUNNY I LOVE HER"

"at 4:40 i love the way [name] completes jungwon's sentence, i've never seen two people that are just so perfect for each other"

yk how on youtube there's that feature where you can see the most replayed part?

when you pop into frame that's the most replayed part of his video 😭

his viewerbase on reddit probably posts you

like its a screenshot from the video and theyre like "it's [name]! the one on the whiteboard!"

i think his fanbase would be really nice on reddit too :(

"she's so pretty!"

"jungwon has immaculate taste"

indeed he does <3

he's so proud of you, like i think he definitely looks at the comments and screenshots them to keep reading them

like YES THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND

HOWEVER

jungwon makes those "going through my subreddit" videos

and he comes across a post hyping you up

at first hes liek "YES YES YES MY GF IS SO BEAUTIFUL"

but then the comments on the post are like

"she's so beautiful, do ygs think she's single?"

"hi [name] 😏 (i am the ceo of amazon and read feminist literature books btw)"

obv all jokes

and jungwon's face visibly drops

he gives the camera a MAD side eye

a STINK EYE

jungwons like "all right, who said that 🤨"

AND THEN HE REPORTS AND BANS THEM 😭

he makes posts on his subreddit like "all of u are going missing next time i see shit like this"

HELP

riki ☆

sorry he's a shitposter

i think riki posts those genshin impact and fortnite playthroughs

but he also posts other gamer things

but he actually has a good fanbase

he's at like 900k subscribers even though he doesn't have a fixed upload schedule or specific genre of post

he's never showed his face like ever on his channel, but he definitely shows his personality through editing, video descriptions, and community posts

one day though

riki randomly posts a video titled "me and my girlfriend at the arcade"

and its a video of you and him on an arcade date :(

the majority of it is him behind the camera recording you as you play games

the way you can hear him chuckling behind the camera as you have cute reactions :((((

but there's also times where he's on camera

like when he's playing with the claw machine

and bc riki is a pro

he wins a you giant teddy bear!!

your cute lil cheers when he wins are like the most replayed part of the video

he takes such cute pictures of you hugging the bear aw

honestly his viewers are surprised when he posts the video

bc he used to be posting genshin impact videos why is there a vlog

but theyre not complaining

this video becomes one of his most viewed

since youre most of the video there's a lot of comments abt you

and i think his audience is close enough with riki to shit on him LMAAOAO

"[name] is so sweet i wanna hug her"

"i wish i was a teddy bear..."

"SHE'S SO CUTE"

"move aside riki"

"is [name] single by any chance"

"omg who is that weird random guy (riki) that keeps coming near you [name] is he bothering you queen"

"[name] who is this random guy are you cheating on me"

riki responds to these comments too

"you can't have her" "too bad she's lying in my arms right now" "she just kissed me" "do want want my girlfriend or a black eye"

he definitely starts fights

i think his video is so viral that he gets ppl outside his audience

and some ppl get mad when riki fights back 😭😭😭

“why is he fighting people they’re clearing joking” and riki responds like “yeah why is he fighting 🤬🤬🤬😡😡😡”

and then riki gets petty

and makes a video called

"addressing everything."

its like a logan paul apology video

it's also like 30 seconds 😭

"hi all... i just wanted to come here and apologize... for having a HOT GIRLFRIEND" and then he flips off the camera and it cuts off with you saying "babe?--"

lowk goes viral for it LMAO

behold the keyboard warrior trilogy- heehoonki ☠️

in the future riki does post more of your cute vlogs

and in the descriptions he's just ranting abt how much he loves you

lowk all the vlogs are basically just him admiring you

cuties

[mrskokushibo]

Dinner Party

Kyojuro x Sanemi x Tengen&wives x fem!reader

Warnings: Sex, Dirty Smut, MDNI, NSFW, strictly 18+. Group sex . Modern AU. Nearly 5k words Smut. Orgy. Rough oral.

Summary: Sanemi, your husband Kyojuro, and you enjoy dinner with Tengen and his wives at their place. The party ends with...sex. Essentially a pure smut. Enjoy!

Part 2: After Party out now

Masterlist

As Kyoujuro’s wife, you spent a lot of time with his co-workers. They all worked at a small, tight-knit firm that the three men founded together. Kyoujuro was friends with Tengen and Sanemi long before the two of you met, and they were the first people, even before his parents, that he introduced you to. And they were a lovely bunch. The flamboyant Tengen with his three gorgeous wives and the slightly on-edge Sanemi – a forever bachelor - the guy had much luck with women and yet did not seem to want to settle for anyone.

It was Saturday night and Tengen had you all over for one of his lavish dinners. His wives, Makio, Hinatsuru and Suma were the most gracious of hosts, preparing stunning meals and creating a lovely atmosphere with their bubbly personalities. The house was a modern villa, with a large and stylishly decorated living and dining space all wrapped around a Japanese-inspired closed-in courtyard that housed a garden and an onsen. You all usually stayed late into the night, chatting away, watching movies, and drinking.

The atmosphere tonight was just as friendly, however, something seemed to be on Tengen’s mind all night. He kept on giving you quick glances all through the dinner and lowering his gaze every time you caught him doing it.

After dinner, everyone made themselves comfortable in the large lounge, the girls snuggled up to Tengen, but he kept on looking at you, his gaze baring mischief. Kyoujuro, as always, was a bit too tipsy to even notice what Tengen was doing, he did not drink on a normal basis, so every time he did, he could not really handle it. He leaned his head on your shoulder and said out into the room,

‘Maybe we should go home now y/n, and leave our lovely hosts to enjoy the evening.’

‘Well, Kyo, good that you speak up, I was just about to suggest that you all stay here with us tonight’

The gorgeous white-haired man suddenly said, all the time looking you in the eyes, his movie-star smile was as wide as it got.

‘It is fine. Thanks for the offer, but we can take a taxi home, no need to have us mess up your guest room’ Kyojuro replied.

Tengen threw his head back and laughed.

‘Oh, no, my dear Kyo. Innocent as always.’ He smirked. ‘What I meant is, that you join us for our nightly activities this evening.’

He looked you in the eye again, as in anticipation, and then confronted you with zero shame.

‘What do you say, y/n. Would you mind sharing your husband with my girls?’

You looked at your husband and he was simply too stunned to even react. Before you could answer Tengen, he nodded toward Sanemi

‘How about you? Care for some fun?’

Sanemi smirked ‘You know I am always up for a good fuck.’

Tengen looked back at you and Kyojuro.

‘So, how about you guys?’ question directed more at you than Kyo.

You looked at Kyo whose cheeks were now red as a beet.

‘What do you think?’ you asked him

‘It is up to you, I guess’ he nearly stammered.

You looked back at Tengen and something very basic was waking up in you. His normally charming gaze was also turning darker and you now knew nothing better than to succumb to your baser instincts.

‘I am up for it. Yes, for sure.’

You looked at Kyo, who was staring at you in shock.

‘Baby, you will have fun. You will see. Besides, it would be rude to disappoint our gracious hosts.’ You smiled innocently at him, while your thoughts were anything but.

Tengen stretched out his arm to you and spoke

‘Come here then.’

When you walked up to him, he stood up and said to his wives:

‘Ok, you three have fun with the boys, I want this one to myself first’ With that he grabbed you by the hand and started to lead you away to their bedroom.

In the meantime, Sanemi shamelessly waved in Makio and Hinatsuru to come to him and soon enough the trio was getting on with clothes being ripped off and moans starting to fill the space. Kyoujuro was still seated in the same spot, but now with a visible erection growing in his pants. Suma walked over to him and knelt between his legs.

‘Do not be shy. I will help you relax’ she giggled massaging his clothed dick and making him moan quietly.

You were now being led through the spacious house to Tengen’s bedroom. His large hand holding yours softly and a sweet smile graced his handsome face. Your anticipation was growing with every step, your pussy slowly tightening and wetness forming between your legs. You always admired Tengen’s looks and physique, but honestly always dismissed any dirtier thoughts from lingering for longer than a flash of a second. But now, you were granted the possibility to finally explore and revisit all that you always pushed aside. At last, you reached the bedroom. It was big by normal standards, but not as large as you would imagine, most of it taken up by a huge bed. There were multiple doors leading to what you could make out as two ensuite bathrooms and nothing less but four separate walk-in closets. Walls were adorned with artwork and there was a large tv on the opposite wall. The room smelled of jasmine and other floral notes you did not quite recognise.

Tengen was standing behind you with his hands placed on your shoulders. He pressed himself tightly into your back and leaned down to kiss your neck. His large, muscular body was cradling you perfectly and he had to lean down far to reach your neck due to the considerable size difference between the two of you. You could feel his hard dick pressing into your waist and you started grinding yourself back on him. It felt huge, the hardness against your soft backside making you want to rip his clothes off and fuck him straight away.

His hands were now moving down your neck to your breasts. The feel of his large, warm hands on your exposed neckline was making you so freaking hot. Soon enough he was massaging your breasts with both hands, not being fully satisfied with touching you through your clothes, he reached down into your lowcut top and into your bra, playing gently with your nipples. You were eliciting some very lascivious moans as he took out your boobs from the bra and out of your top. He was tracing your neck and sides of your cheeks with his lips all the while you were bucking your back into his hard-on. He started to remove your top, with skillful hands unclipped your bra and tossed it to the side, and finally slid down your skirt and panties. All you were left wearing were your lace top stay-ups and high-heeled stiletto shoes.

Slowly, he started pushing you lightly, making you move toward the bed. He pushed far enough that you were now leaning over the edge of it supported by your stretched-out arms. He spread your legs wide and went down on his knees behind you spreading your ass cheeks and licking up a quick line along your wet folds. He kept on licking you between your legs with the flat of his tongue, but he needed better access to work more meticulously.

So now, he gently helped you switch positions and you were soon lying flat on your back with legs spread wide for him. He removed his shirt and you gasped at the sight of his naked torso. He grinned widely

‘You like what you see?’

He was very aware of what his looks did to women and found it amusing at times, but without being cocky about it. His fingers were spreading your labia and he focused on rubbing on one side while licking your clit area with slow and light movements of his wet muscle. A finger was drawing circles around the opening of your cunt with him increasing the pressure on the inside of your labia. You were experiencing so much pleasure now, all you could do was close your eyes and moan like a whore.

He kept his movements on you steady and firm, not moving from any spot until your moans were not as loud anymore, skillfully seeking out the next more sensitive spot by listening to your vocal response and the movement of your hips. He was essentially doing what you used to when you masturbated. His pussy eating skills were unmatched. As he felt your arousal intensify, your pussy clenching and spasming more and more he was now narrowing down his movements closer and closer to your clitoris, slowly sending you into overdrive. He was not cruel, however, and feeling you were about to edge, he now applied extra pressure on your clit and worked until you could no longer control yourself, the sensation of needing to pee quickly turning into an avalanche of ecstasy. You squirted all over him and kept on moaning even as you were descending from your high.

He climbed onto the bed next to you and started kissing you, making you taste your own juices.

‘You taste so good, y/n, I cannot get enough of you.’

Your hands were already fumbling with his zipper and soon you were sliding his pants and boxers off. When his dick was exposed, you stopped your action and grabbed hold of it, him doing the rest of the undressing. You were completely mesmerised by its size. Sure, Kyo was not small and you had your fair share of cock before him, but this? This was on another level. Tengen was nearly two meters tall and not directly lanky, with a strong muscular build so his size would most likely be reflected in his dick, but this was more than you ever thought was possible. Nine inches maybe? You swallowed and started slowly to lick him up his shaft, making him sigh in pleasure.

You were licking him and stroking with your hands for a while, lapping up the precum that steadily leaked out of his tip. Opening your mouth wide you started to sink yourself over his dick while pumping the rest of the huge shaft with one hand. He was rubbing you between your folds again, creating new wetness that was now running down your thighs. Come over here ‘he whispered and guided you to sit down on his face.’ You were in a full sixty-nine now. One of your favourite positions.

With a firm grip on your hips, he pulled you down so that you were fully seated on his mouth and started snaking his tongue into you. At the same time, you were now enthusiastically sucking him off, your cheeks hollowing and small gagging sounds coming out of your mouth every time you sank down on his length. He was gentle with your blow job, not bucking his hips nor pushing down your head. He was aware of his size and had enough control and experience to immerse himself in you doing the work for him instead.

His tongue was working relentlessly on your clit, with you bucking your hips back and forth to create more friction. You were edging now, but too focused on giving him pleasure to have your own release again. He must have felt you clench and get wetter as that went straight to his dick, you feeling it twitch, stiffen and a few more sucks later he came into your mouth, filling you up. You swallowed eagerly, the pleasant salty taste of him tantalising your senses. While you were licking him dry, he intensified his pressure on your crotch and you came again. Not a huge orgasm this time, but good enough to make you scream out briefly.

Now you lay next to each other, enjoying the lingering sensation of contentment and the warmth of still pulsing, blood-filled and swollen genitals. His hand was tracing lightly on your folds, smearing all the cum that leaked out of you.

You were now curious about what was going on in the living room… You lifted your head up a little and was listening to the distant sounds of pleasure. Tengen smirked and picked up a remote control. After a moment of fumbling the tv turned on and what came up on the screen was a bird’s eye view of Tengen’s living room.

‘You have cameras in there??’ you asked.

‘Yes, they are security cameras, but I just realised they could come to good use’ he said with a broad grin.

What was happening on the screen was a full-blown orgy.

Sanemi had Makio and Hinatsuru working on his cock, with Hinatsuru sucking his balls and Makio bobbing her head up and down with Sanemi pressing her head down in an unkind manner. His head was thrown back on the headrest and his teeth were gritted in pleasure.

All the while Kyoujuro was frenetically thrusting his hips and cock into Sumas backside who was moaning loud enough to wake up the neighbourhood.

You were staring at the screen with your pussy gradually getting wetter (if that was even possible from how soaked you already were). You were interrupted by Tengen, who was positioned between your legs with the large cock erect once again. Your look must have unveiled your worries as he said in a soft voice

‘It will fit. I promise. You are so wet anyway’. He smiled.

With that, he parted your pussy with his fingers and positioned his tip at the opening, pushing in slowly. The feeling of a cock this size filling you up was making you absolutely wild with arousal. You were moaning for every inch he was gaining on you. His actions were pure perfection, he really had an intimate knowledge of the female body. He could not bottom out yet, his cock simply too huge and your pussy clenching ferociously. But that did not bother him much. You would eventually open more.

He now started gently pumping his dick into you while watching the footage from the living room. He tilted your chin and turned your head toward him and with a delicate stroke to your cheek, he said in a soft but slightly condescending tone.

‘Do you like what you see?’ It was almost a whisper. ‘You are a very dirty girl, aren’t you?’

‘How about we give my girls a break and I call the boys in here for you? I think you might enjoy that…. I do not think you are satiated yet; I can see it in your eyes.’

You swallowed. You knew so well what he had in mind and the thought of all three males giving you this kind of attention made your body basically limp with arousal.

You kept on watching until everyone in the living room climaxed. Tengen pulled out of you, got up and disappeared into the living room. When he appeared on the screen you could hear him tell his wives to relax and put champagne on cooling. He needed the three men in the bedroom with you and him and you all would be a while, but you all would join the ladies in the hot tub for a relaxing soak and champagne afterward. The girls giggled and walked out of the living room.

The screen went empty and a moment later the three men appeared in the bedroom. Kyo with a heavy blush covering his face, the confident Sanemi with a smug smirk and finally Tengen with a peaceful expression in his smiling pink eyes.

‘Well, well, well. Aren’t you a horny one. Sure you wanna take all three of us at once?’

Sanemi blurted out in his usual cocky manner.

‘Did you know she was like this?’ he asked turning to Kyoujuro.

Kyoujuro’s normally gentle eyes started to narrow and you could see he was on the verge of saying something he would regret. Luckily, the tactically minded Tengen, being the older one here, took reign of the situation and said

‘Hey guys, let’s not bicker, we are all consenting adults here. I think we should get to it before your nagging puts y/n off’

he looked at you and when he was sure they could not see his eyes, he rolled his eyes in a conspiratory gesture toward you, something that made you smile through pressed lips and nod your head to him lightly. You were getting very used to his charming demeanour. 

‘Ok, ok. We can get started. Btw, are you ok with taking it up your ass y/n? No offence, but there are three of us here’

Sanemi noted, but got quickly interrupted by Tengen

‘Nemi, seriously, It is up to y/n, however, she has not prepped herself. So no, I can answer on her behalf that that is off-limits tonight. Y/n, do you agree?’

‘Yes, totally.’

Sanemi sighed deeply, almost as if in disappointment. So, he was into anal, hey? You learned something new tonight.

Sanemi was the first to walk up to you, his erect heavy cock bobbing with every step. He knelt down beside you and started massaging your breasts and enclosed his lips on one of your nipples. You started moaning, his massage of your boobs getting more intense and his tongue flicking your nipple faster now.

‘You know, I might just fuck your tits then, since you won’t put up back there’ he said with a grin.

With that, he straddled your torso and positioned his hard dick between your breasts.

‘Now, sweetheart, squeeze them together for me so I can fuck them’

You did as he asked and soon his dick was sliding back and forth between your tits, his leaking tip coming close to your chin with every move forward. In the meantime, you could feel a large finger spread your labia again, Tengen was getting ready to fuck your pussy. You were so wet now, that he did not need any more prep, but instead, you started to feel that enormous dick of his being slowly pushed into you again.  He felt so fucking good and his movements were just perfect. You completely understood how the guy could satisfy three women. Kyoujuro was the last to join, standing next to your face, the blonde was pumping his thick cock next to your mouth, and looking at you with those hungry amber eyes you were so used to. You opened your mouth eagerly and he slowly pressed himself past your lips, your tongue snaking on the incoming length. His hand stroking your hair gently.

‘Fuck, Kyo, she is such a slut, taking us so good. I could though sense her being on the wild side the first time we met, she was too hot to be tame’

Sanemi spoke through gritted teeth, his little dirty monologue stopped by Tengen who flicked his finger at the back of Sanemi’s head.

‘Shut it, Nemi. Just enjoy yourself, will you? But, hey Kyo. Y/n is lovely and if she does not mind, I would love to have an encore of our evening’

He spoke with quite a strained voice now, being engulfed in his own pleasure. Right now, it was only Tengen and Sanemi who were making you weak with pleasure, Tengen’s cock hitting all the right spots with every slow thrust and Sanemi pinching and rolling your nipples with his calloused fingers. You were eliciting muffled moans onto Kyoujuro’s cock, but to be honest, you were not sucking him with much enthusiasm, being so engulfed in what the two white-haired hotties were doing to you.

Suddenly, Kyoujuro grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head backward. The look in his eyes was wild and fierce and he hissed through his teeth:

‘You are neglecting your wifely duties, my dear. I think I must show you how to behave properly.’

With that, he shoved his full length into your mouth making you gag. This really took you by surprise, almost so you did not recognise your so otherwise playful and gentle lover. You looked at him pleadingly, but he did not seem to care, continuing to thrust into you while holding your hair tight. You were completely at the three men’s mercy, taking whatever they were giving to you, and thanks to Tengen you were receiving a lot. The pressure in your belly was increasing and you were now edging. You tapped Sanemi on the arm

‘squeeze the other nipple too, please Nemi’

He smirked and granted your wish. The action of his rough hands on your hard buds was what was needed to push you over the edge and you climaxed, your scream only muffled by Kyojuro’s cock inside your mouth. The spasming of your pussy was now too much for Tengen as well, and soon enough your clenching muscles milked him hard and  you felt the warmth of his cum inside you. When he pulled out, you felt so empty, you pulled away from Kyojuro’s cock and tried to look around Sanemi to send your plea to Tengen, but right then it was Sanemi’s turn to orgasm and you were met with thick ropes of semen spraying your face and landing in your open mouth.

Kyojuro was now really annoyed, once again having your attention stolen like this. He shifted his position so that he was facing you just behind the top of your head where you were lying down and then hovered himself over you, with his hips over your face and his face toward your belly. His heavy dick now hanging down in your face, he tilted your head slightly backward and pushed himself in your mouth with the intention to mouth fuck you properly. He was fast and rough, almost choking you. His grunts were hoarse and deep. This was not the most comfortable fucking you experienced, to be honest, and you were surprised by his sudden roughness.

Luckily for you, Tengen dove between your legs and started teasing your now overstimulated clit. His licks and massage were just as good as the first time he made you come. You were slowly adjusting to Kyojuro’s actions and focused solely on enjoying what Tengen was doing to you, him now flicking your clit faster and faster until you dissolved in another orgasm, squirting all over his handsome face. He smiled and lapped up as much as he could of your juices. The sight of all this must have finally been too much for Kyo, who now actioned a sloppy thrust and emptied his balls deep into your throat.

His load must have been huge as when he pulled out a fair bit leaked out onto your cheek. You were too fucked out to even notice that your face and neck were literally smeared with cum. You just laid there in bliss. Sanemi and Kyoujuro were both also lying on their backs in the large bed, panting. Tengen though was too considerate to leave you hanging. He walked up to you and lifted you up in his arms.

‘You look like you need a shower’ and carried you to the bathroom.

‘Can you stand up?’

Surprisingly, you could.

‘Good. I am glad to see that you can.’

He turned on the shower and when he deemed the temperature to be just right, he led you in there and embraced you, whispering into your ear

‘Just so you know, I really, really want to see more of you like this. I mean it’

You looked into his enchanting eyes and felt like this would be a lovely arrangement.

After you showered you joined the group in the onsen and all of you enjoyed the rest of the night with champagne and conversation flowing freely.

Banners by @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune

Tagging: @muzansfangs @doumadono @horror4themasses

[wrioluvr]

flirty playboy x mature male reader

this stupid ass meme had been on my mind forever and i realised how funny it would be to have a slutty playboy who just sleeps with anyone to seriously pine over a more mature, secure guy who doesn't fall for any of his shallow charms and tricks.... here are just some blurbs of their dynamic (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

his name is roman. he's a little toxic, but he just wants to be loved.

cw: some smut, top male reader

it all started with a little night out. you didn't do those often, due to devoting most of your time towards work and earning a stable career, but finishing this particularly gruelling assignment called for a celebration. at the bar, dancing with your friends, a good-looking man with a playful glint in his eyes approached you full of bravado. he told you how handsome you were, and had been eyeing you from across the room for a while now. but from a single glance, you could tell he was the type to break hearts. beach-blonde dyed hair, a tight fitting tank top revealing his muscular build, an eyebrow piercing, the way his mouth curled up so subtly into a little smirk.... he was everything you knew to avoid getting serious with. but a little hookup couldn't hurt, right? you deserved a little fun.

and it didn't hurt you at all. a few failed relationships had made you wise beyond your years, knowing to easily seperate the good guys from the bad. you knew your self-worth. roman, on the other hand, was absolutely smitten. no other man had fucked him THIS good, gave him such gentle aftercare, and even let him stay as long as he needed. the way you so effortlessly lifted his legs up to thrust in and out of him at a rhythmic pace, or fondling his tits and squeezing his nipples softly while you hit it from the back, or tenderly running your fingers down his spine, arching it sensually.... he loved it all. it was clear to him that you prioritised his pleasure as much as your own, and it showed in how he orgasmed several times before you even came in him once, panting breathlessly while wearing the sluttiest expression of his life. it was nothing like any of the men he had sex with before. afterwards, you let him stay the night in a guest room, and even brewed a cup of coffee for him in the morning.

roman was damn near tears when you offered to drop him off at his house before you headed off to work. if he was being honest with himself, his insecurities were the root of his constant need for sexual intimacy, so being treated with genuine kindness for once was new to him.

"is dropping you off here alright?" you ask, turning into the road of his apartment complex.

"y-yeah...." he looks out the window, unsure how to look you in the eyes.

"okay. thanks for last night. stay safe." your words carried an air of finality to them, like you were so sure the two of you would never cross paths again. he didn't like that.

"uh, uh......" he stuttered, all his usual flirtatiousness thrown out the window as he couldn't meet your gaze. "could i... get your number?"

your friendly smile froze on your face. "uhhhh.... sorry, i'm not really looking for anything serious right now."

he quickly regained his composure, charm turned up to the max. shifting his tank top so more of his chest was exposed and you could notice his nipples protruding, roman whispered in a low tone, "that's okay! we can just be casual... and fuck anytime you like." a wink. a hand on your thigh.

"jeez... okay, no offense, but i've heard rumours from my friends that you're a bit of a... playboy. i'm not interested in being your toy, sorry."

roman's face flushed in embarrassment, knowing what you said was true. except the part on him seeing you as a toy. that was untrue. he could feel a warmth growing from the pit of his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you. were these... butterflies?

maybe begging would work.

"okay fine, i am a bit of a player... but please, please, pleaseeeeeee.... let's be in contact, okay? as friends?" roman sniffled pathetically, shaking your shoulder in desperation. he needed to be in your presence. why weren't his usual maneating tactics working?!?!

"alright. here you go. just don't spam me or anything, okay? i gotta go for work. see you." you sigh, a little exasperated but choosing not to let it show. he immediately lit up, typing your number in his contacts and saving many hearts next to your name. you prayed your acts of basic human decency wouldn't cause him to catch feelings. you needed to focus on your job right now.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

3:02pm

[romanbabyxx]

hiiiiiii

[romanbabyxx]

i know you said not to spam you but like

[romanbabyxx]

i miss u

[romanbabyxx]

can we meet up at the bar for drinks or something like that? please?

3:10pm

you check the messages on your phone, rolling your eyes and ignoring them. he was probably sending this text to at least three other guys right now. he had a history of cheating, based on what you heard from your friends. you weren't going to be another one of his victims.

5:35pm

[romanbabyxx]

are u ignoring me?

[romanbabyxx]

im sorryyyyyyyy

[romanbabyxx]

pls hit me back when ur free

7.30 pm

[name]

sorry, just got off work. will be super busy this week, so not free. mb.

[romanbabyxx]

oh, its okay! next week then?

[name]

i'll see

this went on for a few weeks, you constantly evading his invitations, being polite and professional, never too intimate over text. roman was starting to get fed up. he's so used to getting everything he wants, he doesn't know what to do when he actually has to work for the one he desires. he actually hadn't hooked up with anyone since your one night stand, but you didn't believe that.

roman was at his wits' end. he could only think of one final plan to get your attention.

trying to make you jealous.

over the next week, he hooked up with any and everyone he met in the bar, not bothering to keep his slutting around discreet. he wanted you to hear the rumours. he wanted you to feel a sense of unease within your very being. he wanted you to feel possessive. he wanted you, to want him. the whole time, even as he was getting fucked, he could only imagine you caressing him, holding him close, loving him.

his deeds didn't go unnoticed. your friends told you about it, yet you didn't feel anything in the slightest. you were right, after all... he forgot about you within a week and moved on to whichever poor man he would leave high and dry next.

the next time you bumped into him at the bar, roman was his usual, party-loving self, excitedly slinging an arm around you, a drink in hand. his plan had to work, surely? you would be begging to have him back. but yet, when he offhandedly (yet so intentionally) mentioned how much dick he had been getting the past week, anticipating your change in expression, nothing happened. "oh. good for you." was all you said.

he sputtered, flustered by your calm demeanour. didn't you care? at all?! "but.... but.... aren't you jealous? that i've been hooking up with other guys?!"

you stare at him, a genuine quzzical expression plastered across your face. "why would i be? it's not like we're dating or anything. it was just a one time thing."

your words hit like a knife through his heart. he clutched his chest dramatically, a pout forming on his lips. "i'll be faithful! i promise!" his words came out more desperate than he intended. he felt so vulnerable, so naked, yet you were the face of serenity. your unimpressed eyes stared through his soul, as if you were scrutinising his very core. he knew you could heal him, make him feel loved, but he was starting to doubt there was any possibility you would feel the same.

"i'm sure that's what you said to the last guy you cheated on."

.

.

.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

i intended for this to be lighthearted but why was it actually kinda depressing tbh

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 19] || [Chapter 21]

Rating: E Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 2.1K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, protected sex, ejaculation, voyeurism (in person and digital). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: he's their (under)boss for a reason.

My dumbass was in such a hurry I forgot to tag my lovely @mothymunson who encouraged me to write this when I was lost where to fit it + gave me extra ideas for the dynamic! 🫶

Chapter 20: Control

It’s been two weeks since that lazy Sunday you spent with Johnny. He had to leave in a hurry, departing on a mission, unable to tell you where he’d be going or when he’d be back…

Simon and Kyle were already on a mission of their own by Sunday so… You’ve spent these last two weeks alone.

It’s been quiet without them… And frankly… a bit lonely.

You used to like having time to yourself after the break-up… But now?

You’ve been with Leah and Mia for dinner a couple times… And although you love your girlfriends, and enjoyed yourself greatly while gossiping with them (and my, my, did you gossip) you find yourself missing Simon, Kyle and Johnny.

It’s 5:30 P.M. on Wednesday and you’re in your kitchen, making something quick for dinner, when there’s a knock on your door.

Eyes squinting in surprise at the lack of expected guests, you immediately think the worst. It’s Ethan. It’s Ethan and he’s pissed that Johnny and Simon fucked him up and he’s here for revenge and you’re alone and-

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” Simon’s voice from the other side of the door relaxes you and you rush across the sitting room and pull open the door.

“Bloody hell, you spooked me!” You say softly as you look up at him. He’s still in full gear and slightly out of breath, as if he ran over to your house the moment he landed on base.

“Hi!” You greet as he pulls off his mask and wraps his arms around you. He steps inside, making you step back with him as he spins you and kisses you, closing the door behind him.

You feel him guide you over to the living room couch and lower you onto it, making you squeal and giggle in surprise. “Simon!” You’re able to murmur as he lowers himself atop of you.

“Missed you… missed you…” He grumbles as he kisses you again, one of his hands on your hip, the other supporting his weight on the throw pillows by your head.

“Missed you too…” You admit, causing him to groan under his breath. His fingers find the straps that hold his vest in place and he quickly undoes them and takes it off, dropping it haphazardly on the floor next to you.

“Simon…” You whisper before he captures your mouth with his again, his tongue finding yours and making you moan. Oh, how you’ve missed him… Your hands trail down his chest and arms, unzipping his fleece jacket and he allows you to take it off him, leaving him in a black t-shirt underneath.

Your hands trail down lower, finding the utility belt at his waist. Your fingers just barely graze the thick, hard bulge in his cargo pants as you try to undo his belt, but one of his hand sharply stops you by gripping your wrist with three fingers.

You pull back from the kiss, the two of you out of breath. Your eyebrows are lowered in concern and your eyes softened. “What?” You asked him softly.

“I’m not-” He trailed off for a moment and huffed before burying his face in your neck. “Not ready for that.” He told you softly. “My body isn’t… I don’t want you to…”

“Oh…” You said, a bit surprised. You had noticed his reaction had been the same he used to have whenever you touched his mask in the past… And if back then you didn’t probe, you certainly wouldn’t now. “Okay.” You told him.

“Can we just…” He trailed off and slowly grabbed your waist with his hand, grinding his crotch lightly against yours. It jostled you a bit and you bit your lip. 

“Yeah… we can dry-hump, Simon…” You told him in a reassuring tone, which only made him groan again and hump against you once more. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and neck as he fixed his grip on you and rubbed his bulge against your body in the thin lounge pants you had changed into after work.

Just as you’re just starting to kiss again, with Simon murmuring more sweet nothings of how much he missed you, there’s a new knocking on the door. Simon groaned in complaint and buried his face in your neck again.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell… He’s fast.” Simon grumbled and pushed up to his feet, sliding off you and helping you sit up.

“Who…?” You asked, a bit light-headed from the intense make-out session.

“Kyle.” He complained as he fixed his bulge in his pants with his hand, while waddling his way over to the door and throwing it open.

“You sneaky bastard.” Kyle said to Simon and pointed a finger at him while coming into the flat.

“Hi, Kyle…” You said softly, receiving a ‘Hi, lovie’ in response as he took off his shoes.

Kyle’s also out of breath but, unlike Simon, he’s changed clothes. “Guess what, Simon here waited until I got in the shower before he ran off to come see you. Left me stranded back at base!”

You can’t help but giggle as Simon’s scarred mouth morphs into a smug, proud-of-himself smirk. “Oops.” He said.

Kyle gave the two of a you a once over. “Ah… I see. Someone was… eager, huh?” He teases and uses his chin to point at the obvious bulge in Simon’s pants.

The younger man moves over to the couch and stands behind it before kissing you on the lips just as hard as Simon did, taking your breath away and making your shoulders sag as you sigh in delight at the feeling of his warm mouth on yours.

Pulling back, Kyle licks his lips and winks at you. “Good thing I got here when I did, hm?” He teases and looks at Simon before returning his gaze to you. “Now we can really get the party started…” He adds.

-

“Oh… Oh, fuck…” You whine at the top of your lungs, your eyes rolling back with each thrust inside of you.

Kyle’s lying on the bed under you, his thighs spread as he has you in a full nelson. His hands hold you behind your neck, fingers intertwined, your knees hooked up on his forearms to keep you spread open.

Kyle’s big. Really big. More than you expected. Considering the only points of comparison you’ve got are John and Ethan… It’s not like either of them was exactly small, but Kyle’s constantly bottoming out inside you without having to throw his whole weight into it. He’s also perfect shaved, not an inch of hair on him… anywhere. Other than his face, of course.

Your bodies are slick with sweat and your moans and his grunts and groans echo in the bedroom. You can barely keep your eyes open and if it weren’t the fact Simon in your field of view, you’d have given up altogether.

Simon’s sitting across from you and Kyle, having cleared your clothes’ chair and taken a seat in it, watching you and Kyle with keen eyes… His large, rough hand is wrapped around his own cock, a long one, the tip red and angry. He strokes it slowly, almost lazily, as he watches you get properly fucked by Kyle.

Unlike John (and Johnny, as you found out during your bath), Simon and Kyle are both cut… And Simon has something that you didn’t expect. Piercings. A Jacob’s ladder, you’re pretty sure it’s called. Four barbells stacked on the underside of his shaft, which he only leaves visible for a few seconds every time his fingers uncover it.

Considering Kyle’s stayed quiet about it, you’re pretty sure he hasn’t spotted them, either from having his own eyes closed, or because you’re in the way. Either way, you don’t mind it, at all, that you get the view all to yourself, even for just a second.

The sight of Simon sat there, legs spread, his cock on display, his big hands and strong arms moving slowly as he watches you and Kyle is an amazing one… And hearing Kyle losing his mind behind you, too into the moment to succeed at any amount of dirty talk or at saying anything coherent just makes it better.

“Fuck… Yeah… Fuck… You feel… Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell…” Kyle grunts behind you as he keeps rocking his hips against your ass, making sure to plunge hard and deep inside you, not giving you time to breath before he’s bottoming out again, the pace unforgivingly fast.

You watch closely as Simon stops for a moment and shifts around on the chair he’s sitting on before pulling out his phone. He lets out a chuckle as he looks at the screen, then, he fidgets around with it for a moment, texting someone.

It’s barely a minute later when you hear the signature sound of a FaceTime call blasting from the phone’s speakers. Simon accepts it and aims the back camera at you and Kyle.

“Say hi to Johnny, sweetheart.” Simon demands, his tone surprisingly bossy, as he goes back to stroking his large cock.

“H-Hi, Johnny…!” You whine aloud, just barely able to speak without melting, your mind slowly emptying of all thoughts beside the feeling of Kyle inside you and Simon masturbating across from you.

Your breath is ragged as Kyle speeds up his thrusts even more, his grip on the back of your neck tightening and tensing up, his hips moving so erratically that it makes you squeal louder. “Kyle! OH FUCK!” You whine, eyes rolling back and your face wincing lightly from desperation.

“Slow down, Kyle.” Simon demands. “Slow and deep.” He adds. You hear Kyle grunt and he murmurs something incomprehensible in response as he does what he’s told. His motions slow and become more paced and calm as Kyle himself tenses up underneath you.

You notice how Kyle’s thighs tense up, his veins bulging and throbbing as he controls himself not to squirm, clearly trying his best not to lose it and to obey what Simon says.

“Mmm… that’s it… That’s it…” Simon praises, his eyes going back and forth between the sight of you and Kyle, and Johnny on his phone. “Nice and slow, Kyle…” He continues saying.

Kyle quakes underneath you, his breath getting a bit more ragged and you swear you hear him gulp down as he tries to be good for Simon and for you.

“Johnny’s enjoying it, aren’t you, Johnny?” He speaks to the phone. You can’t hear the reply from the Scot, but considering how Simon’s chuckling, the answer seems to be a yes.

“Simon… Fuck…” Kyle grunts. “This is… t-torture!” He’s able to get out, his thighs twitching and his arms tightening their hold on the back of your legs. “I’m going to- Fuck!” He grunts.

“Go on, pretty boy.” Simon teases. Something about the look in his eye, the little mischievous smirk on his lips… God, for someone who’s afraid of being touched, he sure knows what the fuck he’s doing… It’s almost intoxicating, the way he’s exerting control on everyone in the room and even Johnny over the phone.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening more and more as you experience all these feelings at once, your mind steadily clearing of any thoughts other than the prickling of stars in the corner of your eyes and the heat increasing more and more.

“Aaah-” Kyle hisses as he keeps moving slowly and deeply, gritting his teeth behind your back and huffing through his nose with barely restricted euphoria. “Fuck… Fuck…” He grunts. 

“F-FUCK!”  His voice shouting as he loses his composure and buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp motion of his hips… and another… and another… Completely disregarding Simon’s commands to go slow… And it makes your eyes roll as your orgasm hits, causing you to shudder and twitch… 

But, instead of moaning his name, you find yourself moaning Simon’s, your head unable to dip back due to Kyle’s grip on it, and forcing you to stare right at Simon as you fall over the edge of your climax.

Behind you, Kyle is losing his own mind, spilling his come in the confines of the condom… And you watch through a lidded, barely-aware gaze, as after a few more strokes, Simon’s cock throbs and twitches… before a few ropes of cum shoot in quick succession all over his lower stomach, which he had the presence of mind to lift his t-shirt out of.

The bedroom falls into complete silence as Kyle pulls out and slowly lets go of you, carefully helping get you out of the strained position that’ll likely leave your legs and joints sore the next few days.

“Good job...” Simon breaks the silence as he tries to catch his breath, his head dipped back against the wall behind him, his eyes lazily trailing the sight of you and Kyle on the bed, and then back to Johnny on the phone.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell…” You can finally hear Johnny speak through the speakers now that the room is silent. “You lot better repeat that when I’m not overseas and can join in…!” He quips, drawing laughter out of all of you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[after-witch]

Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo Satoru x Reader]

Title: Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo x Reader[

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru follows you home. ‘Alone in the Dark’ follow-up.

Word count: 3000ish

notes: yandere, noncon sex, humiliation, misogyny against reader

No one in your family, no one on the spacious estate--from the rotating guests down to the most menial of servants--believes that you are truly ill. Yes, your family let you return home without too many questions, let you bundle yourself in your room and come out only for meals that you leave as soon as it’s polite to do so. They offer to fetch the physician, and only smile indulgently when you insist that it’s a passing bug, you’ll be fine soon. 

They do all these things, while they know that you’re not really unwell. 

At least they grant you the mercy of not saying it out loud, at least for now, which is something you can appreciate. There is very little that you appreciate nowadays. 

There is a soft knock at the door. One of the maids, then. They were trained to knock politely.

“Yes?”

The door gently opens to reveal one of the newer hires. A modest girl with the ability to act demure and professional just as well as any of the seasoned women who were multi-generational hires, whose mothers-and-grandmothers-and-great-grandmothers had worked for your family.

“Miss, my lord and lady have sent me to inform you that you have a caller.”

You clear your throat.

“Ah, unfortunately, I’m not feeling very--”

It was her turn to clear her throat, interrupting you. It almost made you flinch. It was an unusual gesture, not one your parents would have allowed. It should have been trained out by now.

“My lord and lady have sent me with explicit instructions that you are to come to the parlor immediately, even if you are unwell.”

You bite back a sigh. It must have been someone from one of the other families, then. Maybe throwing out another potential marriage match for you--your mother had fretted, especially recently, that you should have already been married by now. 

The thought of sitting in that damned parlor and pretending like you weren’t constantly about to throw up from stress and shock made you want to tear your hair out. You should tell the maid to go away, and bury yourself under your blankets, and scream and scream because Gojo Satoru made you do something awful and the world was unfair and you thought he was your friend and--

No.

People like you didn’t have that luxury. So you force down your bile and half-heartedly make yourself presentable in the mirror, and follow the maid who escorts you down the hallway, out of the intimate private family rooms and into the grand hall that leads down to the parlor. 

She stops you before you reach the threshold of the open door, and you almost trip on your dainty house shoes. The maid looks back at you with an expression that is something in between demure and overwhelmed. The skin of her cheeks flushes pink. She leans in, as if you were friends, and whispers,

“Miss, it’s--it is Gojo Satoru who has called on you.”

The world seems to drop out entirely. Yet you only feel as if you are falling as you stand there, hand braced against the door frame, head spinning. All the while, the maid grins, unawares, no doubt impressed that her employer’s daughter has associations with someone so well-known. 

Sound pushes and pulls around you, distorting in  your shock, but it’s there, clear as day: his voice. And your parents’ voices, all elegant and honeyed. 

From your vantage point against the door frame, you can hear the trickling edges of their conversation.

“They were smart enough to ask me for some tips, and, well, how could I say no?”

Your mother’s voice oohs-and-ahhs. “No wonder we have seen improvement with them lately. All thanks to your generous tutelage, no doubt!”

You can practically hear the grin in Gojo’s voice.

“Well, it certainly helps that I like their company so much. Very much, in fact.” 

You can vividly imagine the look that your parents have probably just given one another even before you cross the threshold of the door and announce yourself, curtsying slightly to your parents, as you’ve been brought up to do. 

Gojo stands when you enter. Oh, the fucker. All etiquette and primness. Your stomach churns. If he wasn’t buttering them up, if he was anywhere else, if he wasn’t doing this to mock you, he wouldn’t be standing with his hands behind his back and a polite smile on his face. He’d be picking at his ear or lounging on the fine upholstery like it was some ratty college couch. 

Your mother is fluttering towards you in an instant, smoothing down the wrinkled bits of your clothing, fingers darting over your face, looking for blemishes, scratches, anything that needs to be hidden or fixed. 

When she’s satisfied, she lightly clasps your hand and leads you over to where Gojo and your father are standing. Your father greets you with a warm nod--unusual for him, but there is company, after all--and Gojo. Well. 

Gojo smiles. Softly. You think, if he had his way, he’d be grinning like a cat that caught the canary. But that would be too much, in front of your parents. Too uncouth. So instead, he smiles lightly and sweetly and it makes you want to bend over and expel breakfast on your mother’s expensive rug. 

“I’m happy to see you’re up and about,” he says. And then he reaches out and touches your shoulder. You stiffen.

You look to your parents--surely this is improper, surely they will say something--but your mother only presses her hand delicately to her lips and smiles.

Your head turns, slowly, back to Gojo. His smile widens.

“Don’t worry. I’ve told them about our private courtship. We don’t have to hide it anymore.”

The world should fall out from underneath you, but it stays stubbornly flat. 

Your lips open and you will say something to make him leave, you’ll tell your parents what he did or feign illness or--

His hands move to rest on your hips, and--you jolt. Fingers dig into the skin of your hips through your clothing. A painful pinch that tells you: hush.

“I think it’s appropriate for them to have a bit of privacy, don’t you?” Your mother asks coyly, looking at your father. He nods solemnly and takes your mother’s arm. You have never, in your life, wanted your parents to stay with you more than you do now.

But they walk away. As your mother shuts the door, she gives you something most rare: a look of approval. How can she not notice the widened worry in your eyes? The anxiety in your expression? The mere presence of Gojo Satoru shuts out everything but his golden glow, the promise of his connection with your family. 

The sound of the door shutting is like nails on a chalkboard.

You take the opportunity to jerk yourself away from him--to your surprise, he lets you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hiss. 

Gojo puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs easily.

“You weren’t around, so I came to you.”

You hate the way he looks too casual. As if you’d ghosted him after a bad study session and not--not….

“Of course I wasn’t around,” you say, almost spitting. “You…” But you don’t say it. Shame washes over you, hot and sticky. 

The silence between you is just as warm, and you want to wash it off.

“Let’s go to your room for more privacy,” he offers. 

“No.” Flat refusal is the only thing you can think to do now. Just say no, no, no, until he gives up and leaves. 

Instead of leaving, he sighs, languid, and stretches his arms above his head. “Ah, your parents will be so disappointed that I left so early, after all that I talked you up.”

You hate him so much.

“C’mon,” he wheedles, when you don’t respond. “I just want to see where you grew up. Is that so bad?’

Show him your bedroom, make him leave. You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s nothing special. Just a room,” you mumble.

“Don’t say that!” Gojo reaches for you and ignores your flinch when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “It’s your room, of course it’s special.”

Your stomach responds to his praise with a low roil, a remnant of how you might have responded to his compliments before all of this. 

--

“There,” you say, voice tight and short, as you gesture towards your bedroom. You pointedly leave the door open but Gojo doesn’t protest. 

It’s not the most impressive bedroom on the estate--that would be your parents’ room, followed by the siblings who managed successful sorcerer careers and have already had a few children. 

But it’s cozy, and it's yours, and for you that’s enough. You just wish Gojo wouldn’t contaminate it with his presence. He looks at everything, smiling, humming. He goes to read a journal open on your dresser and you rush to slam it shut. He jumps back with an exaggerated grin and apologizes. 

He doesn’t look and leave, like you hoped he would. Instead, he sits down on your bed and pats the space next to him.

“You said you just wanted to look.”

He pats the spot again. “I just want to ask about your training. Really quick.” The look you give him must be enough to kill, because he puts his hands in the air. “I promise, only a few questions about your training.”

Your legs tingle as you force them to move, one step at a time, to the bed. You sit next to him and the proximity makes you want to flee. But if you just do what he says and get this over with, he’ll leave. You can deal with your parents’ expectations about some courtship later.

He smiles when you sit. 

“So, any progress? Better? Worse?” He looks down at you through his glasses. “Be honest.” 

“I… I guess I have been getting better at concentrating,” you murmur. You’ve been forced to, really, since you didn’t want your parents to know about what happened. 

“Aw, see? I knew it would help!”

It. Is that what he calls what he did to you? Your throat hurts. 

“That’s not why you did it.”

Gojo has the audacity to quirk his head at you. It’s a gesture you know would make many women’s heart flutters. It just makes you want to close your eyes.

“No?”

You don’t respond, and after a moment, he gets up. It’s enough to make you sigh in relief. He’s leaving. He’ll be gone and you can figure out what to tell your parents and it will all be fine because--

But he doesn’t walk through the door.

Instead, he shuts it.

“Gojo--”

He gives you a look.

“No one will mind,” he tells you, voice light. “I’ll be quiet if you will.”

Your heart thuds, one, two, three.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you as if you’ve asked him the stupidest question in the world. Maybe you did. Because he’s walking towards the bed now, forcing you to scoot backwards on it. You realize the vulnerability of your body in this position far too late, because before you know it, he’s crawling onto the bed with you.

“Wait--wait,” you sputter. “C-Can’t you just leave? Please?”

He leans over you and pins you down with the mere presence of his body.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” He kisses your neck, and you crane it to the side, which only makes him kiss it more. “So cute. I’ve been thinking about you every day since then. Every hour. Every minute.” His kisses grow more numerous, on your shoulder, up your neck, your cheek, finally resting just above your lips.

“Gojo, stop.” He’s so close that your breath ghosts his skin, puffs against his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about the faces you made,” he says, voice dropping an octave. The words slink out of him like a snake. “How sweaty you got. What you looked like with your come all over that pretty face.”

If your cheeks get any hotter, you’ll get ill. You know it.

“Stop it,” you whisper, but your lips brush against his and he takes the opportunity to capture you in a kiss. 

The distraction is enough to keep you from thinking about his hands, to keep you from being aware of his fingers unlacing the buttons of your blouse, of how he slides your arms out of the sleeves. You’re only wearing a thin morning camisole underneath, and the sound of it shredding breaks through the unwanted kiss. 

“Gojo--” You say, or want to say, but all your words are muffled against him. 

Saliva trails from his mouth--you want to gag--when he pulls away. “Satoru,” is all he says. 

He’s taken off your shirt. He’s ripped your undershirt. You’re lying underneath him, ample chest bared, and he’s not going to get off you.

His fingers find your nipples and give them an unceremonious tweak. 

“Don’t!”The word comes out too loud, too shrieky, and both of you still in the silence that follows.

You expect him to get off you now. You expect him to realize the danger of being found out and take the opportunity to leave; ego bruised, perhaps, but still--he would be gone.

Instead, he grins at you. “I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to come in and see us? Ah, but…” He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, and you jerk on the bed at the strange, electric feeling that shoots in between your legs. “Maybe you want to get caught?”

You press your lips firmly together--be quiet, you tell yourself, be quiet!--and shake your head. 

He continues to roll your nipples, and your hips squirm against the feeling. “I think you do,” he muses. “You know, if someone did waltz in here while I’m balls deep in you, we’d have to get married.”

You practically choke on the unexpected sliminess of his words. But perhaps not so unexpected, considering what he was doing. 

“Wh--What?” You hiss.

Gojo looks at you like you’re dumb--cute. But dumb. “I mean, your family is traditional, no? I don’t think they’ll let me deflower you and not make an honest woman out of you after that.” He spreads his fingers out and gropes the plump flesh of your breasts with his hands; his palms brushing against your hardening nipples makes you bite back a sigh. 

“I mean--I meant--we’re not doing, I don’t want to do--”

He leans forward and rubs his nose against your cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I like foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” You ask, helplessly, naively. 

“Fuck, that’s cute,” he sighs. He begins to rub at your nipples with his thumbs, and there’s a warm, prickling sensation in them that makes your toes begin to curl.  “You know how many times I jerked off thinking about these tits?”

“Stop,” you say, breathy. It feels good, and you hate it, but it doesn’t hurt--it doesn’t hurt, at least. That’s what you tell yourself to keep your mouth from screaming.

He ignores your words and squishes your breasts together with his hand, making them balloon almost comically.

“They’re so big, you know?” He pushes and pulls them apart. “How do you even stand up with these things?” 

Humiliation blooms in  your throat.

“Don’t be mad,” he says. “I’m not trying to insult them.” He sighs, then, and goes back to rubbing your nipples with his fingers, eliciting a whimper from your lips. “They’re gorgeous. Nice and big…”

Another whimper, this one louder, making you press your palm against your mouth.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He leans down, peering over his glasses. “Feels good when my fingers play with your tits?”

It does. You shake your head. But it does.

Gojo tsks lightly. You feel one hand leave your breast and reach down, down--sliding underneath the waistband of your skirt. Your body lurches but he’s too heavy and strong and you can’t move, even as he swipes his fingers down your underwear. You can feel the way his digits meet some slickness, smearing it around on the other side of the fabric.

“Your mouth can lie, but down here… you’re leaking.”

Your heart lurches with the memory of your leaking cursed energy, with the memory of the hard floor--and with the knowledge that it’s happening again. 

Without fanfare, he grabs the waistband of your skirt and begins to shimmy it down. You kick and struggle, little noises escaping your lips that surely aren’t loud enough to be heard outside the walls. But it doesn’t matter. He’s stronger than you. 

Your underwear goes down next, and you cringe at the feeling of wetness clinging to the soft material as he peels them down your legs. With your clothes gone, it’s easy for him to grip your upper thighs and pull them apart, exposing you directly to him.

“Gojo--” Your throat is dry and your words hoarse.

“Your pussy is prettier than I remember,” he says, ignoring your protests, ignoring the way your legs squirm. “Look--did your clit just twitch? Is it saying hello?” He smiles up at you, stupidly, and some part of you wonders if he really thinks you’ll laugh at what he’s saying. All you can do is swallow against rising bile.

“I was going to eat you out until you squealed first,” he begins, voice low. “But I don’t think I can wait. Besides, you look wet enough.” He rubs his thumb against your clit and you slap your hand back against your mouth at the sudden jolt of pleasure. 

You know what he’s doing, even if you don’t want to admit it. You know before he reaches down and shoves his pants down around his ankles. You know before his boxers come down next. You know before you see his cock, hard like the last time.

How in the world is that going to fit inside you? You think. You feel, dimly, your privates clench and twitch at nothing.

“Your body is eager,” he tells you, cooing. “Even if you pretend that you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you murmur. He doesn’t listen. Your fingers grip the sheets of your body and you think dimly about what you’ve heard about sex. All you know is that you weren’t supposed to have it with anyone but your husband, lest you produce unwanted bastards to soil your family’s good name. Your mother had taught you all about the value of your “flower,” the importance of being chaste and virtuous. 

And here you are, splayed on your bed, with Gojo about to take it all away from you.

You let out a whimper when he leans forward and rubs the tip of his cock in your folds. It’s thick and warm. 

“Gojo,” you say, voice tight.

“Satoru,” he chides, sweetly. “I’m about to fuck you, honey, you can call me Satoru.” 

You press your lips together and tighten your fingers on the sheets as he finally moves his hips forward, pressing his cock inside you, slowly.

It hurts. Enough that tears prick at the edges of your eyes, and you let out a soft, pained keen.

Gojo’s there, kissing you, as soon as it leaves your lips. His fingers brush away your tears even as he pushes forward, filling you up more, stretching you. The ache deepens, there’s a sting with it--you wonder if you’ll bleed, like your sister says she did, on her wedding night.

It doesn’t stop once he’s inside you. He pulls his hips back--there’s a brief relief from the feeling when he’s mostly out--before he pushes back in, and the ache reignites, making you jolt and whimper against his lips.

“Shh,” he tells you. One of his hands trails down your stomach, down your thigh, to rest against the top of your sex. His thumb begins to rub out slow circles, and an unwanted aching pleasure begins to build there. 

It doesn’t make the pain go away. It doesn’t make the humiliation go away. All it does is introduce a sick sort of pleasure that makes you feel worse about yourself. How could you like this? It should be impossible, for your body to begin to feel a low, rolling pleasure that cuts through the pain–cuts through the horror–of what’s happening to you.

You whimper, bubbling out a little cry, and Gojo presses sweet kisses to your cheeks.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, you like that, don’t you?” The sweetness of his words is underscored by the wet sound of his cock thrusting inside you, by a faint slapping sensation against you every time he does. 

But you do like it. Or your body does, and you’re not sure what the difference is, splayed on your bed, all warmth and sweat and aches. Gojo’s thumb presses deeper and your mouth opens–you gasp and he swallows your noises in a kiss, not letting up until his thumb is rubbing hard enough that your body arches and there’s a coil snapping inside you.

You grunt, animal-like, into his mouth. He grunts right back and shame curls over you, even as your body spasms in forced bliss. You can feel yourself clenching around him, as if you wanted him, as if you were trying to make the sex better for him.

He doesn’t pull away until you’re done clenching around him, and you shut your eyes for a moment to avoid looking at the almost dopey, pleased expression on his face.

The realizations hit you like slaps  in the wake of your orgasm. 

He made you orgasm. It felt good. You liked it, you hated it. You want more, you never want it again. 

You just lost your virginity--still losing it, he’s not done–the precious commodity that your mother told you to guard well--on your bed. Before marriage. Before you were even in love. Before anything. 

How could it be any other way, with Gojo Satoru? He takes, takes, takes. Takes what he wants because he can, because he knows it belongs to him, if he wants it. You, included. 

There’s a gentle pat on your cheek and you realize Gojo is patting you, tapping you like he might a dazed sorcerer whose head met the rough end of concrete during a fight.

“Don’t get lost on me, now. Look at me… hey, you still here?”

“Yes,” you whisper, although it comes out more stuttered than you’d like with the shake of your body as he thrusts.

He plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth and moves faster. It hurts, still, but some of the more pressing sting is gone. Instead it’s an uncomfortable, new ache. 

“You look so good like this, y’know?” His hands go from your cheeks to your breasts, and he squeezes them. “All ready to be filled up.”

His words take a moment to make any sense--and even then, you’re still not quite sure.

“Fill me… up?”

His thrusts get faster, and you hear your own breath stuttering stupidly as he fucks you. “Like I said--” His words are half-panting, but you get the feeling that they needn’t be; he only wants to seem undone, you think. “Want to fuck you. Want to breed you.” His hands squeeze your breasts, kneading at the flesh. “You’ll get real big, won’t you? With a baby in your stomach, just one at first, but--” He starts to speed up now, and you see a faint redness on his cheeks. “Fuck, who knows how many we’ll have.”

Cold fear clenches your stomach tight, and you resist the primal urge to gag.

“My-my parents,” you plead. Your parents would never let this happen, would they? Not if you told them the truth?

Gojo leans above you, looking down at you with a lascivious expression as he begins to thrust faster, making your breasts wobble with the motion.

“Your parents already approve. They feel honored, and they should, that I want to marry you. Have kids with you. Merge our bloodlines. Might have to fudge the due date, if this takes, but…” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, his head veers down towards yours, and his lips practically crash into your mouth as he kisses you and presses himself deep inside you. He groans into your mouth and a warm, gooey feeling blossoms inside you at the same time. He came–inside you. You knew enough to know that was a bad thing, as far as potential pregnancies went. 

When he pulls back from the kiss, he pulls back his hips, and something warm trickles out with his cock. It’s an awful feeling. The soreness, the wetness. The feeling of being used.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, voice tinged with something warm and breathy. “Did you like that? Making me come?” 

You don’t answer.

Gojo doesn’t seem to mind. He flops down next to you and catches his breath.

“We should go back out there pretty soon,” he says airily. “They’ll be expecting us. Your parents, that is.”

Your voice is a croak. “What do you mean?”

Gojo leans up on his elbows and gives you a cheeky grin. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! I told your parents I was staying for dinner. Figured I’d work up an appetite in here… plus we can tell them all about our engagement over dessert. Two birds, one stone?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling, with its ornamented paintings. Pretty flowers and trees that your mother picked out when you were a baby.  You had no input in it, just like you have no say in anything now. 

No birds on the ceiling. 

There are only the stones in the pit of your stomach, waiting to be retched up. 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part I

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.

Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.

After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.

She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.

Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.

"Maybe some day," you'd always say.

What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.

You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.

But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.

_______________________

The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "

You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.

"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."

People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.

You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"

"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.

You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."

Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."

You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."

You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."

"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."

You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."

"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.

"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.

"Very much so, I'm afraid."

Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.

The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."

"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.

You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.

_____________________

"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.

"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."

"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.

"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."

Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"

Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."

Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."

Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."

Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."

Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."

_________________________

"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.

You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."

"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."

You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"

"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."

You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."

Kate shrugs, "As you wish."

Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.

"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."

He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’ 

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 

‘hmmn?’ 

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

[eddiesghxst]

i can not resist ex husband!eddie, so here is something about steve trying to parent trap you and eddie but then he just ends up fucking you both…look away and don’t perceive me

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

ex husband!eddie who loves you so much he gives you the house. so ultimately he’s homeless which leads him to moving in with his dear bestie steve. steve’s got a nice house, he’s not married but he’s got a cute dog named spike and the guest room is rather cozy.

and steve doesn’t mind eddie moving in, in fact he actually loves it! the house is big and it gets lonely (hence the reason for spike) so it’s nice to have someone to talk to every night before bed.

except eddie is kind of like…going through it.

totally understandable! he’s going through a divorce for fucks sake! he’s allowed to be sad and wallow in his misery, and steve is happy that eddie feels safe enough with him to do that in steve’s home.

but after the 3 month mark it starts getting a little pathetic. eddie doesn’t leave the house. he goes to work, comes back and keeps himself holed up in his room plucking the most devastating chords on his guitar.

and, again, that’s fine.

eddie can cope however he wants to.

but steve can’t help but feel…annoyed?

the truth is, you’re a fucking catch. no— you’re better than a catch— you’re the fucking motherload. and eddie is just letting you slip away!

“she won’t talk to me steve, it doesn’t matter what i want. she fucking hates me.”

which isn’t true, considering the times steve has talked to you, you’ve asked how eddie has been dealing with “the situation”

and steve just kind of has to lie and say eddie’s doing good even though that’s not the truth.

and steve can tell you care about eddie. that you miss him. that you still love him and this separation is hurting you more than anything.

so, steve starts planning.

which is… arguably never good for anybody involved in said plan, but fuck if it doesn’t always work.

it’s a lousy plan. lots of holes and loops that leave all fingers pointing to him, but steve just wants his friends back together.

so, basically, steve’s plan is to parent trap you and eddie.

he plays telephone between you both. sees you and reports back to eddie one day then does the same to you the next. and a lot of nasty words are said— you two complain about each other like two fucking grandmothers in a home— and steve is desperately trying to put out the fire on both sides.

and eddie doesn't get it. doesn’t understand why steve keeps defending you when you broke his heart. he gets irritated with steve and snaps, “you wanna fuck my wife? is that it?”

and as much as the idea of steve wanting to fuck you should piss eddie off, he can't help but...like it? like he wants steve to fuck you.

like he wants steve to seduce you and fuck you in what used to be yours and eddie's bed just to come home smelling like you and tasting like you when eddie smears his lips across steve's mouth. humming at the taste of you when he wraps his mouth around steve's cock. dragging his tongue over the sensitive bruises you leave on steve’s pretty neck.

god, it's so fucked up!

but it's the closest eddie can get to you. and eventually you figure out what steve and eddie are doing. what steve is doing. playing fucking puppeteer with you.

and fuck, it flips something within you that you never knew was there. can't help thinking about how steve will go home and fuck your ex husband just after spending an hour between your thighs. try to come off pissed when steve tells you to imagine he’s eddie but holy fuck it’s so hot. letting you fuck him with eddie’s name rolling off your tongue. letting you give him purple bruises so he can go show your ex husband how well he fucked you.

steve is just so kind.

you’ll both be forever in steve’s debt, that’s for sure.

[marvelsmylife]

Hidden Family

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Request: 𝐻𝑒𝑦, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑? (𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝐴𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝐴𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑈𝑙𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝐹𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦) 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢🥰

A/n I changed a few things around (timeline wise) where Feyre had Nyx before the war in Hybern. I hope you guys won’t mind.

It was a total shit show. They were meant to go on a mission to forge more allies for the inevitable war against Hybern. They decided to bring Nyx with them because they thought it would be a simple mission. Unfortunately, they crossed paths with Hybern soldiers, and half of them were severely injured, while the other half were helping the injured make their way towards a safe house Azriel mentioned when they finally killed the Hybern soldiers.

“We’re here,” Azriel called out to everyone. 

Everyone let out an exhausted sigh at the news and followed Azriel toward a beautiful house that was near a lake. 

Before they entered the house, Azriel turned towards everyone: “Before you enter, I want to express how sorry I am for not telling you about who you’re about to meet.”

Everyone exchanged concerned looks before entering the house. 

The second they entered the home they were met with the smell of fresh baked goods. “Y/n, I’m home,” Azriel called out: “I’m going to need you to bring out all of your healing oils and your delicate hands to help heal some of my friends”.

Everyone exchanged shocked looks at the fact that Azriel had kept the fact that he had a significant other.

Right when Cassian was about to question his brother on how he was able to keep such a secret from them, a feminine voice came from upstairs. “Daddy, Ophelia took my favorite dress and ruined it ! ! !” Your daughter Anastasia cried as she rushed down the stairs with her ruined dress in her hands.

On cue, your other daughter came rushing behind her sister: “It was an accident!!!!”

“No, it wasn’t ! ! !” Anastasia cried: “You knew I had my date tonight with Achilles; you ruined it because you have a crush on him !”

That statement alone caused Azriel’s heart to stop: “There is no way you are going out on a date. You’re just a child ! ! !” Azriel argued.

“Daddy, I’m 89 years old,” Anastasia replied: “I’m allowed to date.”

Throughout the exchange, the inner circle tried to wrap their head around the fact that Azriel had a secret family and had been hiding them for at least 89 years. 

That’s when you appeared with a tray of healing oils and cream: “Ophelia, Anastasia apologize to our guests for your behavior and either helps your two younger sisters in the kitchen or go to your rooms” you scolded your two daughters before acknowledging your guests: “Please make yourselves at home while I heal the injured”.

One by one you took the injured fae into a separate room and began to heal their wounds. While that happened, the rest of the inner circle started questioning why Azriel kept this from them. “Can you blame me?” Azriel asked: “I’m the spymaster of the night court; I’m bound to garner some enemies. I kept them hidden so no one would go after them.”

“But we could have helped,” Feyre replied: “We would have kept them safe.”

Azriel shook his head: “I wanted them to have a normal life. They deserve the normal and safe life I never had growing up. When I met y/n a hundred years ago and found out we were mates, I promised I would keep her safe. I doubled down on it when we discovered y/n was pregnant with Anastasia”. Azriel sighed and looked over at Rhysand and Cassian: “I really wanted to tell you about them, especially when I met y/n. I knew you guys would love her but I was scared for her safety.”

“I totally understand” Rhysand responded: “If I had the choice I would have done the same thing with Feyre and Nyx.”

“I also would have done the same thing,” Cassian replied as he took Nesta's hand.

Azriel sent his brother a smile before they heard tiny footsteps coming down the hall. “DADDY ! ! !” Two small faes no older than five came running into the room. “You’re home !” the girls said in unison and jumped onto Azriel’s lap.

“I find it amusing that Azriel only has daughters unless you have more hidden somewhere?” Amren commented as she watched your daughter’s kiss on Azriel’s cheeks.

Everyone started chuckling at Amren's comment: “Nope, I’m a girl dad and I wouldn’t change that at all” Azriel replied.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why is there a big age gap between your daughters,” Nesta asked.

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh as he responded: “We intended to only have two, but Charlotte came into our lives 5 years ago, and we didn’t want her to grow up alone, so we had Amélie two years later”.

“Daddy, pay attention to me,” Charlotte grabbed her dad's face: “I helped Mommy make the pastries today; do you want to try one?”

“Can I have one Mommy?” everyone turned and realized Nyx was finally awake and looking up at Feyre.

“Yes ! ! ! !” both Charlotte and Amélie got off their father's lap and went over to Nyx: “You are going to love them”. Charlotte and Amélie each grabbed Nyx’s hand and ran towards the kitchen to get a treat.

Right at that instant, you reappeared with a now-healed Elain by your side. “I told those girls those pastries were supposed to be a surprise for their father,” you huffed out before you acknowledged everyone in the room: “Would you like me to bring the pastries out here for you?”

“Actually, let me help you bring everything out,” Feyre volunteered, followed by Nesta and Elain.

As soon as you were gone, Rhysand leaned over and whispered into Azriel’s ear: “Listen, I get why you hid this from us, but now that we know, please let us know if you need anything for them. They are family and we always protect family”.

“Thank you, Rhysand,” Azriel smiled at Rhysand: “I really don’t know what I would do without my family”.

Rhysand was about to pat Azriel’s shoulder when Nyx came rushing in with a grin on his face: “Uncle Azriel, I’m going to marry Charlotte AND Amélie ! ! !”

The color drained from Azriel’s face at Nyx’s statement. “I’m sure you will, Nyx; let’s go see what’s taking your mother so long in the kitchen,” Rhysand quickly got his son and exited the room before Azriel could respond.

[nadvs]

home before dark (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since your kiss. After a moment of tense silence, he collected himself and you headed back to the party. He found his friends. You found yours.

It’s been over an hour, the sun now nestled below the horizon, and you keep catching his eye in the dark, crowded backyard. You remind yourself that his gaze is so persistently on you due to your arrangement. He’s looking out for you. That’s all.

But he didn’t have to kiss you. He could have opted for something less… intense. Because now your mind won’t stop repeating it and everything that lead up to it. Stoic, unattached, cold Rafe cried. Actually cried. And then he kissed you so gently that your head still feels like it’s spinning.

You look at him again from across the yard. He’s surrounded by the same guys he always hangs out with, but for once, you can see just how lonely he actually looks.

It hurts to think about how he considers you to be the only person who cares about him - you, a reminder of the worst thing that happened to him.

What about his friends? Or his family? Do they all neglect him, unwilling to see past his hard exterior?

When Rafe trails your car to your house after the party, it’s a few minutes past midnight and his body is already feeling the itch for more coke. It’s the best way to numb everything. But he can’t afford to. Not when he’s taking care of you. Not when you looked at him the way you did when you said he could quit.

You glance up every so often to see Rafe in the frame of your rearview mirror, his bike rumbling behind you, his headlight bright.

You reach your home, relieved to see that the mailbox is closed, and pull into the driveway.

After you both come through the front door, you arm the security system, then turn to face him.

“Do you want to take the guest bed?” you ask, having rehearsed it in the car. “Or just sleep in my room again?”

Rafe doesn’t make much eye contact with you. He’s still embarrassed.

“A distraction would be good,” he admits. He can’t fall asleep alone, sober, with nothing but his own mind replaying the humiliation of crying in front of you.

“So, boring you to sleep was a smart idea?” you ask with a small smile. Knowing you’re helping him, even in this silly little way, is gratifying considering how much he’s helping you.

Rafe huffs amusedly, tilting his head. You make your way up the stairs and he follows, chewing on his lip before he can say his next words. The guilt is killing him. Especially when you have nothing but patience and compassion for him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to…” He stops in the hallway, wanting to get this out before he gets ready for bed. “This morning… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Rafe’s lids are low and he shuffles in place, like this is the first apology he’s ever given someone and he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

The way he left your home was abrupt. His tone was harsh. But it was because you did the only thing you’re not supposed to do. You brought up the past. And you can’t blame him.

You decide to try to dismiss the tension between you.

“Couples fight,” you joke. “It’s okay.”

Rafe nods, his gaze still on the floor. You realize right behind him, up on the wall, hangs the photo of you and him and your mothers. His smile used to be so bright.

He steps towards the guest room and when he closes the door behind him, you take the photo off the wall and shove the frame in your dresser. You’ll do anything you can to protect him from any and every reminder.

When Rafe enters your dark bedroom, you nervously take a breath before you speak.

“You can just sleep up here again if you want,” you say. “The floor’s probably not that comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, hoping he sounds indifferent even though he’s the farthest thing from it.

Kissing you was a thrill and just the thought of sleeping next to you makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire. Being close to you is like its own drug and he can’t get enough.

You smell minty toothpaste as Rafe settles next to you in bed. You stay on your side, faced away from him, as he lies on his back, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I’m trying to think of a boring story,” you say. You shake your head to yourself. “This is weird.”

“Weird?” he echoes, on edge that you’re regretting inviting him to sleep next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. “My ex used to tell me that I talk too much. I’m still getting used to the idea that someone actually wants to hear me ramble.“

“He said that to you?” Rafe turns his head, looking at your silhouette in the dark.

You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering. It’s a hard subject, but you almost feel like you owe it to him. He was so vulnerable earlier tonight. You want to balance the scales.

“All the time,” you recall. The thought of that idiot berating you ignites rage in his core.

“It was like a power play or something,” you continue. “I think he liked to say things just to hurt me, then get me to forgive him. I… gave him too many chances. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get me back.”

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” Rafe says before even a second can pass.

You breathe out slowly. You know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say. “I guess it’s easier to feel like I’m responsible in some way because then I’m not just a victim.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, a gap slowly opening.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that.” The gap closes and your heart skips a beat. Rafe isn’t the type to say something just to say it. You know he really thinks that.

“Thank you.” You pick at a string on your duvet cover. Expecting him to open up is a losing game, but it’s one you can’t stop playing. “Have you been… in a relationship?”

You’ve never seen Rafe with a girl for longer than the duration of a party. But maybe he kept his commitments under wraps. He’s an expert at hiding from the world.

“No,” he says with a cynical chuckle. He’s hooked up loads of times. But a relationship? Not even close.

“Why not?” you ask. Despite his scary reputation, Rafe’s undeniably attractive. And some girls like the scary thing. Maybe you would if you didn’t know there was nothing to be scared of.

“Just haven’t,” Rafe answers. You stifle a sigh. It was a matter of time before he closed up again.

“So, um, I can talk about my day?” you offer. “You fell asleep to that last night. I’ll try not to be offended again.”

Rafe smirks at your joke and taps his fingers against his stomach. You never push him to talk. He appreciates it.

Brushing you off is a reflex. He doesn’t want it to be. You clearly spent more than enough time dealing with a jerk and he doesn’t need to be one to you, too. So, he decides to answer your question. Honestly, this time.

“I think it’s because I… just…” he begins, trying not to stammer, “I can’t stop how fast my thoughts are sometimes. I can’t control how mad I get. There’s no point in getting serious with a girl because the second she hears what my head sounds like, she’ll bail.”

The more you learn about who Rafe is today, the more it hurts. Does he think there’s nothing worth loving in him? That everyone will abandon him?

“The right girl won’t,” you say into the dark. “She’ll want to hear it all.” You hear Rafe chuckle in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. His mind is a place of high highs and lower lows. He can hardly survive it himself. He couldn’t expect someone else to.

“It’s true.” You’d be that girl if he’d let you. But your very existence plagues him. You’ll never be that girl for him and he’ll never want you to be.

“I know people call me a psycho. They’re not far off,” he admits.

“You’re not that.” You don’t even want to say the word. “If you were, you would’ve laughed in my face when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. But you didn’t. You’re here.”

You feel Rafe shift his weight. His back is to yours now.

“So, your day?” he says.

He’s done talking. And even though you’d like him to share his thoughts with you until sunrise, you’re relieved you actually got somewhere with him. Bit by bit, he’s baring his soul to you, and it’s just as gentle as you remember.

You tell Rafe about your time at the mall today, once again going into meaningless details just to make the story drag.

His heart is hammering in his ears as he lies in your bed, eyes shut, listening to you speak. He’s never admitted to anyone why he’s never wanted a girlfriend. Not even to his closest friends. If they ever asked, he’d say he wasn’t into commitment.

He can’t believe now that he said it out loud, it was to the one person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life avoiding.

Again, Rafe isn’t in bed when you wake up. You find him downstairs, waiting for you just like yesterday.

Before you lock the door behind him, he offers you a simple bye. It’s a reminder that even though he cried in front of you and kissed you and revealed why he won’t let anyone in, you’re still being kept at a distance.

It’ll be a hot day, so you make plans with friends to have lunch at the country club and spend the afternoon by the outdoor pool.

When you get to the pool deck and recline in a lounger, you notice a lot of other Kooks had the same idea today. Scattered along the poolside are groups of a lot of the people you see at parties, drinking and soaking in the scorching sun.

You’re instinctually looking for Rafe. When you spot him on the other side of the pool, sitting in a chair identical to yours, you immediately feel at ease.

It’s probably not a good idea to let your eyes linger on his toned, bare chest. But you do.

You wonder what these days will look like when all this is over and Ty stops pursuing you. Will you go back to seeing Rafe at rowdy parties and spontaneous events like these, hoping he’s okay, wishing you could talk to him but knowing he’ll treat you like a stranger?

You look away. Dwelling on this will only make you sad.

Later in the afternoon, you’re leaning back in your chair under the sun, beads of pool water sprinkled over your skin. You’ve been swimming with your friends most of the day, calm because Rafe is so close by.

Your eyes are closed as you relax in the sun. But then you hear his laugh. Ty’s laugh.

You stiffen immediately, sitting up straight, eyes darting around to match the nauseating sound to the face. Your heart is racing, playing back everything that’s happened in the past few days.

The creepy letter. The footsteps in front of your door. The way he mocked you on the beach, asking what you’ll do when Rafe’s not around to protect you.

“You okay?” your friend asks.

“Did you see...” you begin. You can’t waste another second. You don’t even grab your towel when you stand up.

You walk along the crowded pool, heading straight for Rafe.

When he sees you rushing over, your head frantically whirling to look behind you with every couple of steps you take, his body is injected with a blazing urgency.

Rafe swiftly rises from his seat, leaving his friends to watch him in confusion for leaving the conversation so suddenly.

He helps seal the distance between you and once you’re close enough, he takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the pool deck by an uninhabited rental booth.

You round the wall, earning privacy. Your bodies meet and you yield to him just like you did to your instincts, pressing your cheek against his chest and circling your arms around his torso.

Rafe hugs you back. Tightly. His skin is warm, not a drop of water on him, a sharp contrast to the clamminess clinging onto your skin and bathing suit.

“What happened?” he murmurs. He notices how fast your shoulders are skittering. You’re shaking against him.

“I thought I heard him,” you say. Now, thankfully, all you can hear are the thumps of Rafe’s heart over the roar of swarms of people swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Rafe knows the feeling. He envelops you tighter. He hasn’t used his body to hold somebody like this… ever. He’s used to using it to inflict harm. To hurt. So why does this feel so natural?

“Do you want me to see if he’s here or do you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Stay,” you reply. You always wanted him to stay. His big arms remain wrapped around you, chipping away at the fear you rushed over here with.

Your bodies are curved into each other, his warmth radiating off of him. Rafe hasn’t left the poolside all day. He couldn’t risk a distraction. He needed to be there in case something happened to you. And something did.

And feeling you settle in his arms, the way your trembles start to disappear and your breath grows deeper, is worth it. He’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything.

Eventually, once your stress has become much more bearable, you pull back. Rafe’s hard blue eyes sweep over your face.

“I won’t let him near you, alright?” he says. His hands drag up to your face, palms pressed at your cheeks. You nod with wide, doleful eyes.

You exist in this moment together, like you did in your bed after your nightmare, like you did when you were alone on the beach last night, touching even though there’s nobody around to fool.

Then, Rafe pulls his hands off of you and once again, tension wedges its way between you. He steps back. So do you.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” he says gruffly, his stare on the ground now.

“Just you?” you ask. The hope in your voice floods him with sadness. Does the thought of being with his friends upset you that much?

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you echo.

Your bare arms are an inch from touching as you sit together on the shallow edge of the pool, your legs dangling over in the water.

“I don’t even want to look if he’s here,” you confess, looking down at your thighs pressed against the concrete next to Rafe’s.

“I will,” he says. You see him look up from the corner of your eye. After a moment, he shakes his head. “He’s not.”

“Okay,” you breathe. It’s odd that Ty hasn’t been around. Maybe Rafe really did scare him off for good. “Thanks.”

You’d been in this pool as kids a few times. Not nearly as much as you were on the beach behind his house, but a few summer days, Rafe’s mom would bring you and her children here.

He was always protective of his sisters. You remember his boyish voice calling for his mom whenever Sarah started wading towards the deep end. Now, any time you see him with his sister, they’re snapping at each other.

Again, your mind spirals to who Rafe would be if he never suffered such a terrible loss. He’d probably be close to his siblings, instead of pushing everyone away.

You glance at him, taking in his blue eyes and freckled skin in the sun, and try to smile. But you can’t. A piece of your heart will always be missing because of what happened to him.

When you join your friends, the bright mood you arrived at the club with is gone.

You take a long, hot shower as soon as you’re home, deciding you’ll have a night in tonight. The day was too heavy to try to have any fun.

It’s nearly ten when you settle in front of the tv under a blanket. Just so Rafe doesn’t worry about you not showing up at your mutual friend’s party, you text him: i’m staying in tonight. don’t worry if you get here late. just call me and i’ll let you in.

He calls you within a minute.

“Hello?”

“Did something happen?” Rafe asks. He doesn’t have to be specific - he’s asking if Ty found a way to scare you again.

“No, I’m… just not in a partying mood,” you respond.

“Are you alone?”

You curl up under your blanket, hooking an arm around your legs.

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you want to be?”

“No,” you admit.

You remotely open the gate when Rafe arrives minutes later, watching him come up the driveway on his motorcycle through the window.

When he settles on the other end of the couch in your living room, he snorts a laugh.

“Really?” he asks once he sees what’s on the screen.

“Be nice,” you quip. “It’s my comfort film.”

“Still?”

Your heart is in your throat. He remembers. You made him watch it with you once, years ago. You both talked through most of it.

“That’s the thing about comfort films, Rafe,” you reply. “They don’t change.”

He stretches his arms along the armrest and back of the couch, taking up all the space he wants to. He grew up to be so tall and big and powerful.

“Defensive,” he responds. You roll your eyes and smile.

As the movie continues, Rafe watches you and the only word he could use to describe how you look curled up on the couch is cute. His body reacted to your kiss, to the way your curves felt when you pressed up against him in that hug, because of course it did, but it’s more than that.

You’re pretty to him in the most innocent way and it’s like he’s a boy again, confused about how he could be so nervous around someone yet still want to be with them nonstop.

This is getting harder. He’s growing attached and he knows he shouldn’t for both of your sakes. Because you can both try to pretend you don’t have a history, but you do. It follows you around. You can’t outrun it.

“I can find something else to watch if you want,” you say. He tears his eyes off of you before you catch him staring.

“It’s fine,” he says. You nod and let yourself enjoy his company, even though it’s fleeting.

You sit up suddenly when you realize you dozed off. Your eyes find Rafe, who’s smirking at you.

“How long was I out?” you ask.

“How good can a movie be if you fall asleep?” he teases. You playfully nudge his knee with your foot. “Like, ten minutes. Not long.”

“I’m more tired than I thought,” you say.

“Probably from staying up late to talk,” Rafe replies.

“The price I pay for a bodyguard,” you say with a laugh. You rub your eyes. “Are you ready for bed?”

The casual way you ask the question in your fatigue almost makes him dizzy. It makes you sound like you’re a real couple.

Rafe trails you up the stairs and before he turns to change into his pajamas in the guest room, the gap in the wall of photos is glaringly obvious. You removed the framed picture of his mother.

“You took it down,” he says without thinking. He feels the comedown hitting him. Another low his mind is racing through.

The hallway is dim and you’re staring at his back now. You twist your hands together, jittery, like you’re about to take a test and saying one wrong thing will fail you.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “You don’t like reminders, right?”

Rafe’s body feels like it weighs a million pounds. He’s stuck. Heavy.

“Is that…” He shakes his head to himself. “Is that bad?”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he says. It’s like pulling teeth, giving a voice to the thoughts that he’s always running away from.

“Not wanting reminders isn’t bad,” you say behind him. “If that’s what you mean.”

You feel like you’ve been wrung out. You’re a reminder. You step towards him, even though he’s facing away from you. You can’t help but want to touch him again.

When Rafe feels your hand cup his, he lets out a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t be trying to forget her,” he says. Fuck. Now that he’s started talking, it’s like he can’t stop. Why can’t he stop?

Your mind swirls as if you’re in a dream. He’s actually talking about his mom. You continue to stare at his back.

“I don’t think you are,” you whisper.

“How would you know?” he mutters sharply.

It’s a defence mechanism. You can tell. He’s trying to push you away. You won’t let him.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say. “But I think what you’re really trying to forget is how bad it hurts. Am I right?”

Rafe’s chest rises and falls with rough, shallow jolts. His heart pounds. His eyes wander over the space where the photo was.

“The last time I…” He’s unable to stop his rushed words. “The last time I had a chance to tell her, I didn’t. I just… I didn’t.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I loved her.”

Your throat goes dry.

“She knew,” you say. You grip his hand tighter. “Of course she knew.”

“She said it and I - I just didn’t say it back,” he stammers. “We hit the wall so hard and she - I know now that she knew she wasn’t going to make it. That’s why she told me she loved me. I didn’t say it back.”

Your heart thrashes against your ribs and your stomach turns with agony.

“Oh, my God. Were you…” you whisper. “Rafe, were you in the car?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He can still hear his mother asking are you okay? He answered yes and she said thank God, I love you and then he saw the way she was slumped over the steering wheel from where he sat in the backseat and he couldn’t speak from fear and he stopped believing in a God the second he heard her take her last breath.

That’s when he found his voice. He started screaming for her to wake up. She never did. It birthed a burning, merciless anger deep inside him that controls him to this day.

The last thing his mother did was make sure he knew he was loved. And he didn’t say it back.

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You heard very little about the accident. It was stormy. She hit a freeway barrier. She died before the ambulance arrived. Nobody ever went into any more detail and you didn’t want them to.

There’s a gaping hole in your chest. Rafe was there when she died. He was with her. You always wondered where he was when he learned she passed away. How he was told the horrifying news.

But nobody had to tell him. Your best friend watched his world end right in front of him, leaving him with pain he has been running from since.

He wriggles out of your grip. Speaking to you is making him live through it again. And if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he regrets.

“I’ll sleep on my own tonight,” he says, voice thin. You watch him disappear into the guest room.

You rush to your bedroom and shut the door so he doesn’t hear the heavy sobs that start to erupt out of you.

You pace around the room, aching from the inside out. Right now, you don’t picture Rafe as the man he is, protecting you, carrying a gun. You picture the boy. At the beach. In the car. At the funeral.

Like a tide reaching a shore, you gravitate towards him. If he rejects you, you can take it. But you can’t handle the thought of him needing someone and you not being there.

Rafe is sitting at the edge of the guest bed when you turn the door handle. You close the distance and sit beside him, wrapping your arms beneath his, tight around his body.

“You can tell me to go away,” you whisper against his back. “I promise I will if you want me to.”

You feel his chest filling and contracting with his harsh breaths. He hunches over, head in his hands.

“Go away,” he mutters. Just like when he was a kid. His voice is deeper now, but his words are the same.

The pain is sharp. It takes everything in you to let go of him. But you do. For what feels like the thousandth time, he denies you a place in his healing, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted from him.

The tears welling in his eyes fall when he hears the door shut behind you. He can’t do this. He can’t relive it. He can’t disappoint you. He can’t open up all the way and tell you everything because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself or put himself back together.

You lie in bed, your chest hurting so bad that you’re not sure it’ll ever get better. It’s like for every step you take forward with Rafe, you take two back.

He held you, kept you from a panic attack today, but you don’t possess whatever it is you need to help him. He can keep you afloat, but you can’t return the favor.

He knows you care about him. He cried about it last night. Evidently, what you offer is still not enough.

He’s just down the hall, so close but at a distance. You pull up your duvet and wish he were beside you, falling asleep to the sound of your rambling.

But no amount of wishing for anything can make it come true. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your broken friendship with Rafe, it’s that.

(part six)

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